Stumbling Towards Destiny
by Knottaclue
Summary: It's a few years in the future and Terry is compelled to reconsider his career choice.
1. Default Chapter

Stumbling Towards Destiny  
  
Part One  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Gotham City. It's a... big place. I've been giving myself nightly tours of its vastness and learning some of its intricacies for years now and I realize the more I learn the less I know. Bruce says that kind of realization is a sign I'm maturing. Heck. I'm just trying to stay alive in this crazy career. If I knew in the beginning what I know now.... I'd probably think it through once or thrice before I put the costume on again for the first time. I'm not saying I regret where I am today, but I guess I'm having some major doubts about if I'm really qualified for this position. And I guess too, I'm just getting.... tired. Not the kind of physical tired I used to struggle with in the first year when I was tempted to prop my eyes open with toothpicks to stay awake. I'm talking the kind of tired where you start to do everything by rote and have to remind yourself what you're doing all this for anyway.   
  
  
  
My name is Terry McGinnis. Sometimes I forget that too. When I wear the costume and go out into the city to do my 'thing' people call me Batman. That's not who I am of course. Someone else owns that name. Bruce Wayne, THE BATMAN, does. When I first started playing this role I figured some day I'd earn the name from him. You know- be good enough to be worthy of the legendary moniker. Here I am years later, fairly certain that will never happen. I don't possess the qualities that made him so great. Brains, brawn, driving motivation- he had it all.  
  
  
  
How would I know what he was like when he was the Batman you might ask? I spent a week with him after his dip in the Lazurus Pit. That hole filled with slimy, green liquid that could reverse the aging process in people after one spends enough time in it. Bruce came out young, but it didn't last because he was supposed to wade in a couple more times to make the rejuvenation stick and decided not to. Before old age started creeping back up on him he, literally, had my jaw dropping in awe of what he was capable of. Unbelievable how much training he tried to cram into me those few days. Got tired just watching and listening to him, much less trying to keep up with him.  
  
  
  
Even now in his old, old age he can outdo me on anything he sets his mind to. I don't think he realizes how often he embarrasses me. And I'm not exactly slow or stupid when it comes to getting something done.  
  
  
  
So what do I call myself when I forget my real name? Trainee. Apprentice. Student. Protege. Never-be-good-enough-hero. Average costumed crimefighter.  
  
  
  
Yeah, I'm making a difference here in Gotham. I've got a reputation. Although I don't strike fear, like he did, into the hearts of the criminal world they have shown a healthy respect for me when I intrude unexpectedly into their business.  
  
  
  
I've hinted to Bruce about some of my- doubts. He's not much help. Tells me the choice to continue being Batman is mine and that I have nothing left to prove and the city will get along without Batman just like it did before. I talked to Max about it too. The only other person I can really confide in. Being able to discuss things with her over the years has helped me keep some kind of perspective on my life. She isn't any more helpful than Bruce about this though. I know she's holding back. Not saying what she's really thinking. She just keeps asking questions after I ask her one.  
  
  
  
I don't know what kind of advice I'm looking for or even if I really want any. I do know I don't like feeling so.... unsure about who I am. I wish I still felt that sense of wonder and excitement and righteousness that was so strong in the beginning. I ask myself what would I do if I gave up the cowl? All the shallow answers come right away. Live for myself for a change. Finish my schooling. Get a 'real' job.  
Get married. Have a family. I can't imagine any of that giving me the same kind of fulfillment as what I'm doing now.   
  
  
  
I like being Batman. Though according to Barbara Gordon, former costumed hero herself, it's gone beyond that for me. She says I'm addicted to it. That the longer I stay at it the stronger the hold becomes. She says eventually I'll become as reclusive and jaded as Bruce. When I argue with her that I'm not Bruce and I got into this for totally different reasons than Bruce she just laughs and gives me a consoling pat on the shoulder as she leaves.  
  
  
  
Maybe there is some truth to that. Lately I've noticed I feel.... lonely. I have a mother and brother- a family, but I don't seem to have much time to interact with them anymore. Mom still tries to stay in touch with me, but my kid brother Matt gives me the impression he could care less if I dropped out of their lives permanently. I feel bad about that, but not enough to change anything. At least.... not right now.  
  
  
  
I don't have a 'regular' girlfriend. After all this time I still miss Dana, but I couldn't stomach lying to her anymore and I figured if I really cared about her I should let her find someone who could really be there for her. Guess she did because Max told me a few days ago that she heard Dana was engaged. Supposed to get married some time this fall.   
  
  
  
I date when I have time. For fun. No commitment allowed-- besides being Batman that is. Actually, I haven't made many new friends at all since I became Batman. I've made a lot of enemies though. Goes with the territory.  
  
  
  
Max is the only real friend I have and lately she's been considering a job offer in another state. Bruce offered her a position in one of his companies. {The traitor.} I don't want her to go, but I keep my mouth shut about it. She'd think I was pathetic if she knew how much I needed her to stay in Gotham just for me. Maybe she already knows. She's pretty insightful that way. I'd like our relationship to go further than friendship, but she drew the line at the beginning when she joined the team and I haven't been able to get her to budge an inch.  
  
  
  
I know it sounds like I'm complaining, but I'm not. I'm stating the facts the way I see them. No one is making me do this. My choice. Always has been. From the day I stole the costume from the batcave. After all these years I still don't know why Bruce offered me this chance. What is it he saw in me and what is it that keeps him working with me when he knows I'll never even get close to the Batman he was?  
  
  
****************  
  
  
Maxine yawned and rubbed at her crusty eyelids, the unchanging darkness of the batcave blurring for a moment. Time in a corner of the giant computer screen indicated four twenty-three a.m. Batman should be home in another minute or so. After monitoring his movements nightly for so long she had developed a sixth sense of where he should be and when. In fact, the fine-tuned teamwork that had grown between the three of them over the years amazed even the very demanding Bruce Wayne.  
  
  
  
As if on cue the powerful whine of the Batmobile entering the cave resounded. Maxine felt herself tense in anticipation and tried to ease it by reminding herself that Batman had had a fairly routine night. That should make it easier for Terry to deal with what she had been putting off telling him for the last two weeks.  
The timing had never been right to tell him before now. And just because now happened to be the last chance she had other than not telling him at all did not mean she was a coward. Nor was it knowing it was something she knew he did not want to hear.  
  
  
  
Maxine took a deep breath, let it out slowly and muttered the truth outloud. "Coward."  
  
  
  
Too antsy to wait for Terry to come to her she sauntered towards the area where the Batmobile would come to a halt. She stopped in a shadow that hid her from view. The thrumming whine came louder. A flock of bats returning from a night's feeding winged their way frantically ahead of the fast moving machine. With an expertise that Maxine always likened to the grace of a dancer Batman slowed the sleek vechicle and settled it gently to the cave floor. A wave of heat and dust wafted over to where she watched and waited, stirring her hair and clothing.  
  
  
  
The canopy slid open. She saw Terry remove the cowl and gloves then lay his head back against the headrest and soaked in the sight of his unguarded person. The years as Batman had hardened him- physically, mentally and spiritually. It was more difficult now to read his expression or body language to know what he was thinking or feeling. He had developed a sort of-- mask over his demeanor that he would lower only occasionally. It worried her that she could not remember the last time she heard him laugh in pure amusement or pleasure.  
  
  
  
Maxine used to envy the excitement and adventure of the role he played. Over time she began to see the toll such a responsibility wrought on the man and had lost the desire to be in on the action and learned to empathize with him instead. Even though her own role as backup, friend and confidante did not put her at great risk, she found it harder and harder to endure. She did not want to endure watching him put his life in jeopardy on a regular basis anymore. Exposing himself to risks no one in their right mind would consider. Seeing him return to the cave so bruised and battered sometimes he could barely move, then just smile and wish him luck as he went off the next night to do the same. She dreaded the times when they lost contact with him or he did not make it back and she and Bruce would have to find out where he was and whether he required their assistance.  
  
  
  
She had always thought she could have this night job and pursue college and a career of her own as well. Early on she realized those were not easily fulfilled options. An enormous amount of time and energy was required on her part to maintain her duties as backup. It was on-the-job training and it was intense. And it had not gotten any easier. The struggle Terry had maintained to finish high school during the day while being Batman at night was quite understandable to her now that she was going through the same thing with nightly duties as Batman's backup and the daylight requirement of attending college courses.  
  
  
  
It had been nearly a year now that Batman had gone out every consecutive night (and part of the day that was not taken up by his internship at WayneTech) without fail. Nor did he sign up for his usual college course or two per semester after finishing the last one. He had developed an almost manic dedication to reducing crime in Gotham City. Terry had never discussed an intent beforehand about this plan of action to either Bruce or her. He just started doing it and they went along with it assuming he would take a break in the routine when he needed it. Three hundred three days later and he was still going strong while both Bruce and herself were feeling the strain.  
  
  
  
It did not really matter what the specific reasons were. Instinctively she knew she was heading for burnout and was desperate to head it off because if she ever got to that point she was afraid she would not   
be able to feel for him anymore. So instead of waiting for that moment of indifference to come she opted to hurt him by dropping out of his life. He would probably consider the choices equal, but she knew better.  
  
  
  
Terry levered himself out of the cockpit. As he dropped to the ground his right leg buckled. Maxine felt the familiar prick of concern while he caught at the car to steady himself. She emerged from the shadows to walk towards him, falling into her usual role of supportive, caring friend. Her unmistakable deep, throaty voice echoed softly in the cavernous area. "Is that leg still bothering you?"  
  
  
  
Terry glanced up sharply. She saw the momentary tenseness in his stance fade. "Max." A wisp of a smile greeted her. "I thought you'd be long gone by now."  
  
  
  
"I was just doing some research." She answered coming around the vehicle to stand beside him. "Thought I'd wait around for you. Besides, there's something I wanted to talk to you about."   
  
  
  
Maxine met his searching gaze without flinching. There was a flicker of understanding and momentary regret in his eyes before he turned his attention to massaging the ache from his leg. Maxine sidled closer.  
  
  
  
"Can I help?"  
  
  
  
Terry shook his head while working muscles of the leg with both hands. "It just stiffens up once in awhile. Nothing I can't handle." He lifted his head, the slight smile on his mouth softening the underlying tone of disapproval Maxine heard.  
  
  
  
"It'd heal a lot faster if you'd give it a rest for a night or two."  
  
  
  
"It's not a problem."  
  
  
  
"If you say so." She frowned and stepped aside as he straightened and began to walk away from the car. Again the weakened leg hesitated to take his weight and he stumbled. Max was there for support and he accepted it, an exasperated oath mumbled under his breath. With his arm across her shoulders and her arm around his waist she listened to him grumble all the way to the computer annex and onto the chair. Against his weak protests she began to massage the not quite healed leg using massage therapy technique learned from experts the first year she had joined the team. With the constant abuse Terry exposed himself to there was always some part of his physique that could benefit from it. He never asked for it. Usually she coerced him into it, like now, after observing the way he moved and knowing the easier he gave in to her demands the more he was hurting.  
  
  
  
  
Terry finally relaxed under her ministrations marveling quietly at the strength of her hands that he could feel them working through the stiff barrier of the suit's material. He sighed, pushing back the usual thoughts that there were other places on his body that he would prefer having her touch and murmured. "Who's going to baby me like this after you're gone Max?" He eyed her through lowered lids, but she ignored him. Momentary silence came before he asked softly. "When are you leaving?"  
  
  
  
  
"This morning." She answered evenly, glancing up at him. The leg muscle beneath her fingers tensed, but his expression remained bland. Maxine concentrated on the soothing motion of her hands feeling the tightness lessen in the hard, muscled limb. She was caught by surprise when his hands reached down to grip hers, halting their movement. Terry leaned towards her kneeling form and captured her gaze even though she did her best to avoid it. He was hard to resist when he was determined. Damn! Maxine tried to strengthen her faltering willpower. He was using his heaviest ammo to weaken her. That look he had. That damn puppy-dog expression he used on women to get his way. She had lost track of all the times she had seen him use it on Dana. But she was well aware of it and was not about to fall in the trap.  
  
  
  
  
Maxine took a deep, steadying breath and showed him her sternest look, eyes narrowing, her full lips pressed into a rigid line. Watching Bruce over the years had given her a good example of sternness to emulate. Unfortunately it only made Terry soften the look on his handsome face even more. She knew if she let him say anything she would be lost.  
  
  
  
  
Yanking a hand from his grip, Maxine placed fingertips against his mouth. "Don't say it, " she half commanded, half pleaded. "I have to do this Terry. For my own sanity."   
  
  
  
  
Confusion furrowed his brow and Max pulled her hand away as he began to speak. "What... I never heard you say anything like that before. What do you mean about your sanity?"  
  
  
  
  
Maxine shook her head and stood, turning away. Terry was right behind her. "You're the most sane person I know Max. How could you be worried about something like that?"  
  
  
  
  
She forced a short laugh. "Compared to the kind of people you deal with every day I guess you could say that."   
  
  
  
  
"What are you getting at?"  
  
  
  
  
"I'm saying that no sane person can stay that way for long when they witness someone they care about, deliberately and consistently putting his life at risk to follow an ideal that no one else gives a hang about."  
  
  
  
Terry stared wondering at her for a long moment. "I thought you shared that ideal with us. I thought doing this was what you always wanted."  
  
  
  
  
"It was... " she mumured uncomfortably. "... until I realized what price I have to pay for it." Her head shook in misery. "I can't handle this anymore Terry. I can't handle sitting here night after night watching what you have to go through and wishing you didn't. I can't handle the worry I feel whenever we lose contact with you, not knowing what is happening to you."  
  
  
  
  
"You don't have to worry about me." Terry insisted with passion. "If that's the reason you're leaving then just let it go. Forget about that part. Max-- " She turned away. He gripped her shoulders and made her face him. "Max, I don't want you to go. You've become an integral part of this team. I can't even imagine what it would be like to go out there without knowing you were behind me, backing me every step of the way. And not just for my sake. For Bruce too. You've taken a big chunk of responsibility off his shoulders now that you're experienced at the job. If you leave now can he manage the heavier work load without it stressing him?"  
  
  
  
  
"I've already talked to him. He said he wouldn't have a problem with it."  
  
  
  
  
"Of course that's what he'd say! He wouldn't make you stay out of guilt like I would!"  
  
  
  
  
She tried to pull away from him, but he held tight, his flair of anger subsiding to be replaced by lecturing.  
  
  
  
  
"I don't need you to worry about me Max. I've got the training. I've got the experience. I've got the suit. I've got the best backup imaginable. You talk about risk. That's just a part of life. I could be coming down the cave steps over there, trip, fall and break my neck. It could happen to anyone."  
  
  
  
  
Maxine snorted. "Yeah. You could trip and fall down those steps, but only if you were battling ten of your worst enemies at the time!" She finally shrugged off his hands on her shoulders. "An unfortunate accident is no comparison to what you put yourself through Terry. Look-- " She held up a hand to forestall the rebuttal poised on his lips. "I don't want to debate this with you. I'm just telling you I've had enough of this and am moving my life in a new direction. I'm sorry if it hurts you or Bruce, but I have to do what's best for me."  
  
  
  
  
Terry stared at the irregular cave floor for a few seconds before casting a soulful gaze her way. "Why didn't you ever talk about this before?"  
  
  
  
  
"Because it's my problem and this is how I've decided I'm going to solve it. Besides, you've known for weeks that I was considering this. Why didn't you tell me before now how strongly you felt?"  
  
  
  
  
"I didn't think you'd really go through with it."  
  
  
  
  
"I thought you knew better than to underestimate people by now."   
  
  
  
  
"There's got to be another solution."  
  
  
  
  
Maxine looked sympathetic at him. "You'll get along fine without me."  
  
  
  
  
"Why does this job have to be a thousand miles away from Gotham?" He pouted like a little boy.  
  
  
  
  
She grinned, glad he was still capable of dropping the macho mask for a moment. "It's only seven hundred sixty-three actually."   
  
  
  
  
Terry pulled his eyes away from her and began to pace the length of the annex.  
  
  
  
  
Max's gaze followed his movement as she continued to speak. "I entered my new address into the computer. You know my cell number. That won't change. Any time you want to talk, just call." Back and forth in silence he went until she became impatient and gathered her things which laid beneath the computer console. "I have to go. I've still got some packing to do and my sister wants to leave for the airport by nine." Purse, laptop and miscellaneous case positioned within her grasp, Maxine gave Terry's pacing form one last glance before heading to the cave steps. She hated goodbyes too.  
  
  
  
  
At the top of the stairs she turned to get a final view of the cave and Terry. A gasp of surprise escaped when she realized he was standing behind her and she had pivoted unknowingly into his embrace. The expression on his face, in his eyes, stifled the protest she was about to make, made her forget what it was for. His rough, callused hands were gentle as he feathered them across the sides of her face, thumbs caressing the outline of her full lower lip. Her mouth parted in response and his own moved closer. So close she felt his soft breaths and the vibrations in his chest when he spoke hushed words.   
  
  
  
"After everything we've been through together, I can't let you leave without a proper goodbye."  
  
  
  
"I hate goodbyes."   
  
  
  
"Then don't go."  
  
  
  
"I have to."  
  
  
  
"Then you'll have to endure this goodbye." He murmured with stubborn good humor, moving his face closer to hers.  
  
  
  
"No." She offered weak objection while making a feeble attempt to pull away.  
  
  
  
"We may never see each other again Max. All those crazy risks I take every night you know." He grinned, fingers gently stroking hair away from her face. "Can you deny a doomed man one simple kiss?"  
  
  
  
"Yes." She whispered, unable to pull her mesmerized gaze from his. Her handheld possessions slid unnoticed from her numbed grasp unto the step floor. Another barrier gone and Terry took the opportunity to move closer. Max felt the suit's unique material with the flattened palms she held braced against his chest. She saw his mouth move. Heard and felt the rumbling undertone of his softly cajoled words.  
  
  
  
"Just one kiss Max. For everything that could have been."  
  
  
  
"I don't think..." She suddenly found it difficult to catch her breath as their bodies touched.  
  
  
  
"No thinking required here." Came his distracted murmur, lips a hair's width away from touching hers. "Just doing."  
  
  
  
The moment seemed suspended in time as their heightened awareness took in every detail....  
  
  
  
A loud throat-clearing startled them both. Bruce's slightly irritated voice spoke out. "Would you two mind doing that somewhere else? You're blocking the stairway."  
  
  
  
Maxine pulled away from Terry's now relaxed hold and quickly gathered up her fallen gear. She hurried to where Bruce stood in the cave entrance doorway, surprising him with a quick kiss on his cheek and a breathless, heartfelt 'thank you' before fleeing from the scene.  
  
  
Terry started to follow her, but Bruce caught at his upper arm to halt him. The young man turned a frustrated face to his old mentor. "How can you just let her go like that?"  
  
  
  
"Do you care about her?"  
  
  
  
"Isn't that obvious?"  
  
  
  
"Then don't try to stop her. She needs the space and time away to figure out what she wants."  
  
  
  
Terry shrugged off Bruce's lax grip and stared fixedly in the direction Max had gone. Fists finally unclenching he sighed heavily and said angrily. "Why'd you have to get her a job a thousand miles from here? You could have gotten her one in Gotham."  
  
  
  
"Because you're in Gotham. And you are what she wants to get away from. And just for the record, Amurst is only seven hundred sixty-three miles from here."  
  
  
  
"It might as well be a million." Terry's disgruntled reply was accompanied by an outflung arm. "When will I ever have enough time to visit her that far away?"  
  
  
  
"Take the time." Bruce answered simply. Terry looked at him as if he had said something totally absurd, shook his head and stalked away.   
  
  
**************** 


	2. Chapter 2

Vince knew his standing in Gotham's criminal society. Not too low, far from high, yet considered by most to be a reliable source when certain 'jobs' needed doing. He did not often question the referrals sent to him since he needed the work, but this time was one of the exceptions. What exactly he was questioning about this one, Vince was unable to define. Maybe it was just the gloomy weather of the past three days getting to him or maybe the ambience of this claustrophobic office his contact had choosen for them to meet. Whatever the reason it wasn't enough for him to abort the offer he'd been given. The pay was excellent and the job would be easy except for one simple detail.  
  
  
"Sounds real nice." Vince drawled. "Just one big obstacle you never mentioned."  
  
"And what might that be my fine, fat friend."  
  
  
Vince scowled at her sarcastic taunt. He had never met a beautiful woman he did not like in one way or another. This one however, made his skin crawl with distaste.  
  
  
"Batman." he stated. "He's everywhere nowadays. It's rare when I can finish a job without him getting wind of it somehow and trying to shut it down."  
  
  
"Perhaps I've chosen the wrong accomplice. Surely one boy in a costume cannot have so much impact unless he is dealing with simpletons."  
  
  
"Excuse me lady, but obviously you're new in Gotham. Go ahead and find someone else. They'll tell you the same thing. In the last year Batman has scoured this city for our kind and made it clear he's here to stay. The guy is relentless. No one can tell if he ever takes a break because he's always around, night and day. Rumour's going around that maybe he ain't even human. No one I know ever got a good look at him. He's quick. Doesn't stay around to gloat over his victories. And his failures are few and far between as far as I can tell."  
  
  
She cast him a superior, scolding look. Her voice filled with a knowing tone. "I assure you he is human. A mere child. I suppose if you are so lacking that you cannot deal with him then I must intervene. Continue with the plan as we have discussed. I will make sure he does not interfere."  
  
********  
  
  
Barbara Gorden had come to loathe these social gatherings where her title as Commissioner of Gotham required her to attend. There were other ways she preferred to spend her time. A million other important tasks were being put on hold while she socialized and stroked the fragile egos that helped keep her in office.  
  
  
This afternoon's gathering, which was to finalize some details on the EarthWatch Convention that was to descend on Gotham in less than three months, included some of sponser, WayneTech's 'higher-ups'. Namely Bruce Wayne and his young disciple Terry who often accompanied his mentor on business related outings. She rarely had a chance to speak in person to either in a non-Batman related setting.  
  
  
She watched the two from across the room while they moved among the guests. As always, Bruce looked the part of distingushed businessman, the air of authority and weathered experience emanating from him like heat from a white-hot branding iron. He left a mark of presence wherever he went. In contrast Terry displayed the energetic, youthful enthusiasm expected from Wayne's apprentice with just the right amount of serious demeanor to keep others from thinking that Wayne was totally crazy to let someone so young and unqualified even be considered for the responsibility of running Wayne enterprises. His good looks and muscular carriage did nothing to damage his image either which inevitably led to his growing reputation as a ladies' man. Whether it was real or a smokescreen for the alter ego was no concern of hers, but it was an amusing reminiscent of Bruce's early years.   
  
  
Barbara had developed a strong admiration for Terry for a number of reasons. The strongest being that he had established a seemingly successful working relationship with Bruce. Not only as the new Batman, but as billionaire Bruce Wayne's apprentice in the complicated business world of WayneTech. How long had it been now? Over four years? She doubted Bruce was any easier to get along with now than he had been when she or Dick or Tim had struggled to work with him.  
  
  
She had lost patience with Bruce's single minded purpose. Dick had tried to get too close, like the son to a father should have been, but was kept at a distance. Tim never had a chance to develop a close relationship. The Joker had seen to that.  
  
  
From observing Bruce and Terry together Barbara had noticed that in some ways Terry was more mature than Bruce. Certainly in the emotion category. What Terry lacked in experience and technique he made up for in sincerity, dedication and pure grit. The youth had learned early how far he could get arguing with Bruce and played that knowledge to his advantage.  
  
  
Terry had a dark side too. Almost as grim as Bruce sometimes, especially evident in this past year where he was maintaining Batman's presence in the city almost around the clock. In their brief conversations, usually relating to police business, she sensed a discontent in him, a yearning for something he could not identify.  
  
  
Barbara had an idea what might be bothering Terry. Most likely the slow realization that Bruce was using him, like he did with everyone and everything in his life. Terry was a tool. Bruce had honed him into a highly effective, efficiently used tool. The poor kid never had a chance to come into his own, she thought with a measure of sadness. Maybe Bruce was not even consciously aware of what he had done to Terry. She quashed that thought quickly. Unless Bruce was getting senile he was well aware of the repercussions of any acts he undertook. She had witnessed his persistent genius time and again. Everything he did had a purpose, a master plan attached to it. Terry had barged into his life and he had used the event to begin a new agenda. A reason to come alive again.  
  
  
Barbara would not deny that seeing Bruce reawakened in this life was a good thing. And for herself, though she regretted having to deal with a costumed vigilante in her city, she could not help feeling a burgeoning thrill at Batman's return. But at what price?  
  
  
From the recent conversations they had shared she saw that Terry was beginning to question his purpose. A natural pattern in the young, but for Terry that thought pattern could be disastrous. As Batman he could not afford the vulnerability that indecision or lack of confidence would bring. Add that to the fact that Maxine Gibson had left the team a few weeks ago and Barbara felt an unwanted uneasiness growing inside her.  
  
  
Barbara shrugged inwardly and took another sip from her drink before heading to the buffet table. With a slight grin and friendly nod she sidled between guests surrounding the edible display and picked up a tidbit to ease the growling of her stomach. Her gaze traveled discreetly around as she munched and considered who to mingle with next. A deep, sonorus voice sounded from behind her.  
  
  
"Hey Commish. Having a shway time?"   
  
  
A tilt of her head revealed Terry's smiling mouth opening to admit a substantial helping of food. His eyes held the mischievous glint that she had come to know meant that he was glad to see her.  
  
  
"Hey yourself." Her monotone greeting was accompanied by a fond grin. "Being here is part of my job. It's not supposed to be fun."  
  
  
"Yeah. The only thing good about these doings is the food. It's the only time I get something decent to eat."   
  
  
"Too bad Alfred isn't still here. He used to keep all of us well fed."  
  
  
"So I've heard. Max used to fix something for us once in awhile."  
  
  
"Sorry to hear she left."  
  
  
Terry took that moment to pivot towards the table and grab more food, but she had caught a glimpse of his good-natured expression fade. He mumbled around a mouthful.  
  
  
"She had her reasons."  
  
  
"You okay with it?"  
  
  
"Why shouldn't I be?"   
  
  
There was a subtle sharp edge to his question that indicated she had touched a raw nerve. She shrugged and tipped her glass to her lips. "Just asking."  
  
  
"It's her life. She can do what she wants with it. None of my business."  
  
  
"True. But you two have been working together a long time. That kind of friendship is hard to see change."  
  
  
"Her choice, not mine." He replied brusquely while brushing crumbs from now empty hands, then snatching a glass of 'bubbly' from a passing waiter's tray. His eyes traveled about the huge room as he drank from the stemmed glass. "Got a shop question for ya. Does the name Vince Wardo ring any bells?"  
  
  
She considered the persistent 'small time' crimes offender for a moment. "No loud ones. Why?"  
  
  
"He's been keep'in an awful low profile lately. But one of my 'sources of information' claims he's into something big. Doesn't have any idea what it is though."  
  
  
"Interesting. I didn't think he had what it takes to work more complicated routines."  
  
  
"Not on his own anyway."  
  
  
"What does Bruce say?"  
  
  
"Nothing-- cause I haven't mentioned it to him yet."  
  
  
"Oh." The single syllable reply came out before she could stop it. It was the 'I'm surprised, but shouldn't be and it's none of my business to say so' kind of oh. Strange how his sudden grimace made him look older and so - surly. His gruff remark fit the expression.  
  
  
"I hate when you do that. You sound just like him."  
  
  
"Sorry." Barbara's eyebrows rose marginally. It had been a long time since she had seen him display open irritation.   
  
  
Terry grinned lopsided in apology, "Now that doesn't sound like him at all." Looking uneasy he returned attention to his drink.   
  
  
Awkward silence surrounded them while Barbara sensed him poised to confide in her and waited. The feeling passed and she decided to move on.  
  
  
"It's time for me to socialize. If I find any information on Wardo I'll let you know. See you around kid."  
  
  
"Yeah, thanks Barbara." He downed the last drop of champagne, set the glass on the table and was about to rejoin Bruce who was beckoning to him with small hand gestures where he stood in conversation   
with a group of city officials. He waited when he noticed Barbara pause and return to stand in front of him.   
  
  
A contemplative look cast upwards, she kept her words low, meant for his ears only and not for the guest's who were moving around the buffet. "In case no one's mentioned it to you lately, I want you to know the effort you've put into helping this city is noted and appreciated. You've been making my job a hell of a lot easier. Keep it up and you-know-who's name will probably pop up as a write-in candidate at the next election and win."  
  
  
A genuine smile, that even reflected in his eyes, appeared on Terry's face. "Coming from you that means a lot."  
  
  
She returned a brief smile and affirming nod before turning away.   
  
  
Terry stood still for a moment, letting the pleasant feeling of appreciation buoy him. Max had always been his most vocal cheerleader. Gone for weeks now without communicating with her and his ego was feeling the lack of nourishment. The Commissioner's praise was like a loaf of bread to a starving man. Ought to hold him for awhile he thought as he strode determinedly over to take his position beside Bruce. 


	3. Chapter 3

Two months into her new job and Maxine was getting a real feel for it. The job itself was well within her abilities. Compared to what she left behind this work was child's play.   
  
  
It had been more of an adjustment, leaving the familiar haven and routine she had had in Gotham, than she had planned on. Major culture shock. This city was only a quarter of the size of Gotham and the people here were so... friendly. She had been subjected to more niceness in the last few weeks than she had gotten in living in Gotham her entire life. It was not easy to return the kindness' without a major effort on her part. The ingrained wariness she had needed to live in Gotham was difficult to set aside and made her appear aloof to people here. Learning to share oneself with others was hard to do.  
  
  
The worst part of her new life was the nights. She did not know what to do with herself when she headed home from work as the sun began it's trek downwards in the western sky. Without conscious thought her body began it's usual adjustment to steel itself against another session as Batman's backup. Through years of reacting it had learned to prepare itself for the onslaught of tension and excitement and mental stimulation required to keep Batman a step or two ahead of any opposition he might encounter.  
  
  
Maybe that was not the worst part now that she thought about it. Maybe that was not the reason she felt an ache twist inside when she thought about what she left behind. Who was she trying to kid? Why was it so hard to admit that she missed them? Both of them. Them-- Terry and Bruce and..... Terry.   
  
  
Funny how much she let herself think of him now that there was a physical distance between them. No more having to hide her real feelings. He was not the only one who had gotten good at keeping up a front.  
It had not been easy keeping him at arm's length when she wanted to explore their relationship as much as he did. Especially hard after he gave up Dana because he was so vulnerable then.   
  
  
It did not take him long to fill the empty space though. As Bruce's up and coming associate at WayneTech there were plenty of woman who were willing to occupy the little time he had between his duties. Bruce had encouraged the playboy image for Terry, explaining the public wanted to fit him into a mold and letting them do so would help cover the alter-ego activities. Terry bulked at the image at first, but after a little practice found the acting was an amusing pastime. And she had to admit that she found it amusing herself, having to stifle many a laugh when she watched him experimenting with some outrageous behavior at the various business functions.  
  
  
That was all in the past now. She had a new life here, complete with new friends and even a romantic interest. Travis Whitfield, a handsome, gentle hunk of a man had found his way into her life the second day she had moved to Amurst. For the first time in a long time she let herself relax and find happiness in exploring a new relationship.   
  
___________________________________________________________________________________  
  
  
  
Batman stood in the pre-morning darkness on the parapet of the tallest building on the west side of the city. Stretching tired muscles, he gazed out over the shadowed manmade landscape, absorbing and appreciating its labyrinthine architecture. His wide yawn was interrupted suddenly by his own expression of astonishment. A voice resounded worridly in his ears.   
  
  
"What is it?"  
  
  
"You gotta see this. It's unbelievable." Terry exclaimed in quiet awe and switched on the remote viewer in his cowl that would be transmitted back to Bruce in the distant cave. The scene unfolding before them both, left them mesmerized in simple wonder. It was dawn spreading over the breadth of Gotham. The play of gradually increasing sunlight through and across the low set of thick clouds and uneven edge of the city's skyline was awash with indescribable colors. Minutes passed in silence before Bruce remarked solemnly.  
  
  
"In all my years I've never seen two alike."  
  
  
"Now that's a mind-boggling revelation." Terry's low voice answered.  
  
  
"Is it?"  
  
  
"Think about it. Three hundred sixty-five days times- what- how old are you now anyway? A hundred years? That's a lot of sunrises." He baited his mentor. Bruce took it, not letting the grin on his face show in his voice.  
  
  
"Is that how you show respect for your elders? By making fun of their age?"  
  
  
"Not usually. I'd rather challenge their cautious approach to everything. I don't have the patience for it."  
  
  
"Well at least you're honest even if you aren't very nice." He held in a sigh of relief at the sound of Terry's brief chuckle. The first light-hearted exchange they had had since Max left almost eight weeks ago.  
The young man had grown increasingly quiet as the weeks progressed and thrown himself even more single-mindedly into Batman's work (if that were possible). If it were not necessary that Terry keep up at least a pretense of his job as Bruce Wayne's apprentice at WayneTech, Bruce figured the youth would not even bother taking the costume off at all.   
  
  
Any veiled suggestion from Bruce that Terry might like to make a visit to Maxine was met by a mute look of disapproval. A direct command that he at least call her was answered by some sharp retort about the sense of that since he was the reason she had left in the first place.  
  
  
There was a serious undertone to Terry's next hushed words. "Something is happening here Bruce. It's like.... I don't know.... like a different pulse has entered the city. Something that doesn't belong. It's so vague. I can't seem to make sense of it, but it's too strong to just.. let it go."  
  
  
"Good." Bruce's deep voice swelled with quiet approval. "Very good."   
  
  
Terry blinked in surprise at the sound of praise and affirmation in his mentor's voice. A rare occurrence. His voice just above audible Terry asked. "Do you know what it is?"   
  
  
"No. But it is there."  
  
  
Terry bit back an impulse to speak his next thoughts. 'How long have you known Bruce? How much do you know that you aren't telling me because you're waiting for me to find out on my own? When does the training end and the partnership begin? Because that's probably the closest I'll ever get to being Batman. A partner instead of his fully trained apprentice who he feels is good enough to do justice to the title on his own. Tell me what you know Bruce. I don't like the feeling going down in this city. Let's do something about it now instead of letting it build to a dangerous level. Don't use this as another lesson for me. I'm tired of lessons.' Sound of Bruce's gruff voice pulled him from his thoughts.  
  
  
"You all right?'  
  
  
"Sure. Why you asking?"  
  
  
"Because I've been trying to talk to you for the last minute and you haven't responded."  
  
  
"Sorry. What were you saying?"  
  
  
"You remember we have a board meeting this morning at ten?" He heard Terry's muffled noise of dislike and frowned. "Should I make an excuse for your absence?"  
  
  
"No. I'll be there." Terry answered, sounding like he was being asked to stand before a firing squad.  
  
  
"Make sure you don't snore this time if you nod off."  
  
  
"You're never going to let me forget that are you?"  
  
  
"That kind of image does not convey confidence to the other members. And we need their total confidence if we expect them to do their best work. And we need their best to-- "  
  
  
"-- to keep the company viable and ready to change for whatever the future holds." Terry finished the memorized oratory verbatim with a resigned sigh. "I'm on my way." 


	4. Chapter 4

Maxine answered the call and sound of the man's voice speaking her name on the other end made her insides clench in nameless worry. It was the way he said her name, the inflection in the gravelly voice that she had come to know so well over the years that told her something was terribly wrong. And especially knowing he never made social calls.  
  
  
"Bruce?" Her throat was so tight the reply was barely audible.  
  
  
"I'm sorry to interrupt you at work."  
  
  
"It's okay." She held her breath for some reason and mercifully he did not pause long before saying.  
  
  
"Terry is missing."   
  
  
Oh thank God! Missing-- not dead. Missing-- it had happened before. "What do you mean missing?" Her voice sounded calm to her own ears.  
  
  
"Thirty-two hours ago he was coming home from patrol. I was monitoring him when he began to have problems with the car. It wasn't responding to his control. He tried to disengage the guidance interface with the suit, but was unsuccessful. He was about to try something more forceful when contact was lost. I was unable to reestablish. About five hours after that the car returned home, under computer control. Inside it was the suit-- without Terry."   
  
  
That was a first, Maxine thought. Terry was missing, not Batman. That put a new slant on any theory she might develop. She wanted to lighten the feeling of dread by making a remark about Terry wanting to take a vacation without notice, but was sure the old man would not appreciate it. Not surprisingly, just saying it to herself did not have the same effect as saying it outloud. Bruce was talking again.  
  
  
"I've alerted Barbara. She has her people keeping an eye out for him." He paused and she could hear him pull in a heavy breath. "I'm worried."  
  
  
He was worried. The simple admission strengthened Maxine's already dire premonitions. She had thought Bruce Wayne, the original Batman, had banished that emotion from his existence. Never before had she heard him use the word. Forcing the numbness from her mind she began to focus on a plan of action.  
  
  
"I'll be on the next plane out of here. Should I plan on taking a cab to the mansion? I don't want my Mom or sister to know I'm in town. They'll ask questions I won't want to answer right now."  
  
  
"I'll pick you up. And there are plenty of rooms here you can use until this is done."   
  
  
"Thanks. One question... " She hesitated to ask it. "What kind of condition was the suit in?"  
  
  
"For the most part it was unmarred. Just like the car there was no sign that it underwent any kind of attack."  
  
  
"So he was unable to defend himself?"  
  
  
"Maybe. Or maybe he didn't think he would have to."  
  
  
"What... he decided to go visit someone and sent the suit and car home on purpose and now they're holding him prisoner?" Maybe her vacation theory was not as far off as she thought. Or had Terry cracked a bit under the pressure and decided to play an elaborate practical joke on his mentor?  
  
  
"There are marks on the suit that indicate he didn't take it off willingly. I'd rather not say any more so you can examine things with an open mind Max. Your angle of looking at a subject has always brought in a new perspective. We need that now more than ever."  
  
  
"Okay." She murmured. "I need to talk to my boss-- "  
  
  
"I've already done that. He says to take as much time as you need to take care of your mother."  
  
  
Maxine grinned. "So my mother is ill?"  
  
  
"It came on very suddenly." Bruce acknowledged. "And you're booked on the one-thirty flight out of Amurst Airport. A taxi will be waiting outside your apartment to take you there about one o'clock."  
  
  
"Did you get someone to pack my bags too?" Her throaty voice teased.   
  
  
"I'll see you in Gotham." He stated, making no reference to her remark, and ended the connection.   
  
  
*******************  
  
  
  
  
The unrealistic bent to his capture left Terry wondering about his sanity. One minute he was in total control of everything-- his choice of where to patrol in Gotham, of the superb piece of machinery he was riding and guiding with the ultra-sensitive connection of the batsuit's interface, of who he chose to communicate with, of each and every thought in his mind and whether those thoughts needed more thought.  
  
  
In the following minute he found himself totally helpless and as the minutes progressed, unbearably frustrated. Not only did the batmobile cease responding to his commands, but the suit that encompassed his entire body also refused to cooperate. It was not the first time he had become trapped in the suit, but in the past he at least knew the reason why. He heard Bruce's voice trying to talk to him over the link, since only seconds ago he had been able to relay the fact that the batmobile was not responding to his control and he was trying to go to manual operation of the vehicle. The link was disconnected suddenly and Terry felt the car begin a wide, unhurried turn to the north. He fought the confines of the suit for a number of seconds, struggling to move, before he quit. Past experience told him the effort was wasted. Mental efforts would probably be more effective at this point.  
  
  
Question after question cascaded through his mind at what might be happening. The batmobile continued to move as if it knew where it was going. Terry could see glimpses of brightening scenery rushing by from his rigid position in the pilot seat.   
  
  
Clear blue skies shown before the batmobile reached its' destination,almost an hour later. Terry felt it descend and slow for a few minutes before coming to a jerky halt inside a darkened building. The canopy slid back and four identically uniformed men surrounded the cockpit, unbuckled his safety harness and lifted his stiffened form clumsily from the seat. Chafing at the feeling of helplessness, Terry tried again to move. A lazy, feminine voice caught his attention.  
  
  
"How unpleasant it must feel to be at the mercy of something you usually consider an important part of who you pretend to be."  
  
  
The words came from behind him and he could not turn to see their source. Suddenly the cowl was torn from his head and Terry battled to hide his surprise. Naked - exposed - completely embarrassed. A few descriptive words went through his head for what he suddenly felt.  
  
  
"Vulnerable and disconcerted might fit as well." The female voice drawled knowingly. Terry twisted his head in that direction and saw the calm, fine-boned face framed by neatly coifed, white hair.  
  
  
"What?" His gaze raked her relaxed form, mind searching for recognition.  
  
  
"You are feeling surprise are you not?" A small smile turned up the corners of her clarat-colored lips.  
  
  
"Duh." He decided not to humble himself beneath someone who was coming across as the 'queen of overbearing'. Just because she had blown his identity in one fell swoop of, possibly, pure genius did not mean he had to get all flustered. Might as well make the most of the situation. "Got a name to go with the attitude?"   
  
  
His calculated remark seemed to set her into a less pleasant mood. Her eyes narrowed, mouth quirked downwards for a moment. A sudden smile blossomed across her fragile complexion. She raised a delicate hand and slapped his face. Terry's head jerked from the strength of the blow, cheek stinging.  
His reflexive response to raise arms in defense was stopped by the confining hold of the paralyzed suit. He quelled irritation and kept his demeanor calm.   
  
  
She grimaced, rubbed the hurt from her hand and stated matter-of-fact. "You will show more respect for your superior in the future or face further punishment."   
  
  
He bowed his head in deference and replied mocking. "My apologies your highness. Hey- ! " The feel of a pin prick at the back of his neck sent shivers of alarm down his spine and the lethargy that began to creep into his limbs told him what it had been for.   
  
  
***********************  
  
  
  
Gotham's Goodwin International Airport abounded with activity as Maxine snaked her way through the crowded terminal. A familiar figure waded towards her through the sea of humanity, his hand raised and waving wide to get her attention. Tim Drake. The last time she had talked with him was a few weeks before leaving Gotham. His broad welcoming smile was like a soothing balm to the constant worrisome thoughts that had not ceased since Bruce's intial call.   
  
  
She had trusted Mr. Drake from the very first moment she had met him. Something about his openness, a willingness to consider everyone a friend until he had reason not to. Unfailingly cheerful, he could always make her laugh or at least smile and there were times, this last year especially, when he was the only one that could.   
  
  
After learning about everything he had gone through with that 'Joker implant' situation she had asked him once how he managed to be so happy considering all he had undergone. He replied that until the implant had been destroyed he had not realized how iunhappy/i he had been. The Joker's subtle influence on   
his life had kept him from living his life to the full. There had always been something, not understood, that had kept him from a true, deep relationship with his wife and children and with all aspects of his life in   
general. With the implant gone he was now free to be himself as he had not been able to since the Joker had kidnapped him as a child and subjected him to his own brand of twisted torture.   
  
  
Tim exclaimed about having a wonderful loving wife who had never given up on him and who he was now able to love in return with complete abandon. He talked of being able to see his children in a new light and to be there for them in a way he never could before. He talked about how much reestablishing a relationship with Bruce had added a longed-for depth to his existence that he thought could never possibly happen in this life. He had finally raised his arms heavenward, a huge, beaming smile on his broad face and proclaimed loudly, 'How could I not be happy!'. Maxine smiled remembering the moment. The man's attitude was contagious. She had even witnessed Bruce crack a grin and laugh occasionally when he was around visiting.  
  
  
Maxine finally zeroed in on the waiting man.   
  
  
Without pretense he wrapped his powerful, beefy arms around her in a brief hug. "It's good to see you again Max. How was the trip?"  
  
  
"In all honesty, I'm not sure. My mind was a million miles away the whole time. Is there any news?"  
  
  
Frowning, Tim reached his hand out in an offer to carry her bag which she relinquished with murmured thanks.   
  
  
"Nothing yet, but not because the old man hasn't been searching any possible lead nonstop."  
  
  
"How is he?"  
  
  
"Come see for yourself. He's waiting in the car. I had to use every trick and threat I know to pull him away from the cave. It's the first break he's taken since this all started." 


	5. Chapter 5

Terry awoke to stark white, brightly lit surroundings. He lay in the middle of a small, hot, empty room. All four limbs were cuffed with connected tethers running to the distant walls so that movement was restricted. Pale green coveralls replaced the batsuit that had been on his body. Groggy from the after-effects of the drug he had been given, Terry's moves were awkward as he sat up. He yanked at the holds on his arms, testing the strength of the lines. Without the added power of the suit to pull free or access to the tools in the utility belt he would have to do a little creative thinking to free himself.  
  
  
He stood, his gaze sweeping the room's interior for tools or information that would help aid in his escape.   
  
  
She came strolling into the room, the same four guards in step behind her. Her bearing remained regal, the patented bored expression on her face. She stood calmly before Terry and said nothing though her black eyes were alight with interest. Terry spoke flippantly,  
  
  
"You sure have lousy guest etiquette. The least you could have done is provide a blanket."  
  
  
"I have brought you here for a purpose."  
  
  
"Let me guess. You want me to instruct you on proper manner and etiquette. Lesson number one-  
ask people to be your guest instead of kidnapping them. They might want to come on their own. Lesson number two- don't knock them out just when the conversation is starting to go somewhere and number three- provide appropriate accommodations. It'll make your guests feel more welcome."  
  
  
A sardonic grin was her only response before she made a gesture to the guards, who immediately went to the four points on the walls that secured his limbs. In unison,all four pulled the tethers tighter. Terry stayed relaxed as his arms and legs were stretched to an uncomfortable limit.  
  
  
"Hey." he protested mildly. "I know how to do stretching excercises on my own. I really don't need the help."  
  
  
The four purple-uniformed guards returned to stand beside their boss, two on each side of her. Their faces were completely expressionless, eyes always cast downwards. Terry made an exaggerated effort to peer into their faces.  
  
  
"Looks like you guys could use some coffee. Nothing like a little caffeine to perk a body up and put a friendly smile on your faces."  
  
  
His unnecessary chatter had no effect on any of them. Challenging her studious gaze with a questioning one of his own did not get a response either. He decided to ignore her.   
  
  
After a minute she did respond saying blithely, "You and your younger brother share many of the same physical features. Since it is not your mother you resemble, then perhaps it is your deceased father who has contributed the dark looks to his sons."  
  
  
Terry quelled the alarm rising inside, making sure it did not show itself physically. If she was threatening.... His face brightened with a knowing smile. "Yeah, me and my brother and two sisters hear that a lot from relatives on my Dad's side, but then the folks on my Mom's side say we all look like her. Guess it depends on what point of view you're look'in from."  
  
  
Her brows furrowed slightly "You have only one sibling."  
  
  
"I have three. Jake's the youngest. Then there's Nan and Gert and me, the oldest. Whoever told you about me must have gotten wrong information." For the first time his nameless foe looked puzzled. She lifted her left hand to touch at her ear and cocked her head at an angle, her attention wandering away from him for a number of seconds. Unknown to Terry, an electronically sent voice was whispering in her hidden ear piece.   
  
  
{"He seeks to confuse. He is afraid for those you have spoken of."}   
  
  
"Ah, yes." She nodded, speaking out to nothing but air, then focused on him once more. "You should have no fear that I will use my knowledge of your loved ones to hurt you. They are innocent and not needed in what I have planned for you."  
  
  
"Well that's a relief." The lie rolled smoothly from his mouth. "So- what do you have planned for me?"  
  
  
"I wish only that you see and admit the truth."  
  
  
"Would that be my brand of truth or yours?"  
  
  
"There is only one truth, just as there is only one Batman."  
  
  
"I'd rather talk about manners and etiquette."   
  
  
{"He's curious." }  
  
  
She continued. "Other than having to possibly endure your inept interference, I have no quarrel with you boy."  
  
  
{"He doesn't like that term."}  
  
  
"Glad you're not mad at me. So is this how you treat people you like? And just for the record, when have I ever gotten in your way?"  
  
  
"I do what I choose to do regardless of the wishes or wisdom of those around me."  
  
  
"Good for you."  
  
  
{"He feels you are- conceited."}  
  
  
"I know your teacher. He is old now and tries to continue to live his past glories through you."  
  
  
"I've had a lot of teachers and they were all old. Anyone in particular you're referring to?"  
  
  
{"He's fighting worry- surprise."}  
  
  
"I can understand that. But he must see by now that you are incapable of fulfilling even a portion of what he once was."  
  
  
{"He resents and yet I sense... deep doubts. He will speak..." }   
  
  
"I'm sure whoever he is he'd be flattered by your opinion of him. Everyone's entitled to their own opinion and as inflated as your ego is I bet you've got thousands of 'em."   
  
  
Terry was surprised when a much heavier hand made a new mark across his face. The blow forced his head to move despite his determined efforts to keep it still. He blinked as lights sparkled against blackness and he heard the calm, amused voice speaking to the one who was doing the hitting.  
  
  
"Leave his mouth untouched. His words are his only defense and he uses them with skill. It amuses me to hear what he has to say."  
  
  
{"He is angry. Beware. His will is stiffening."}  
  
  
"Perhaps that is why your teacher continues to bother with you. He finds you amusing. A distraction from the aches of old age and the knowledge that his life is nearing its end."  
  
  
{"His doubts come stronger, but the will hardens as well. He will speak."}   
  
  
"Not fair. I amuse you, but you bore me to tears." Another blow from an even harder hand sent Terry's senses reeling and the taste of blood in his mouth.  
  
  
"How unfortunate that words cannot shield you from the pain."  
  
  
{"Yes, he feels pain... from the doubts. How did you know?"}  
  
  
"In fact, the words I say to you now will cause you more pain even without a physical touch." She lifted   
the bound man's head gently beneath the chin and stared into his defiant eyes, saying with assurance.  
  
  
"You are no Batman."   
  
  
A soft groan sounded from her earpeice.   
  
  
{"Pain. You have pierced a tender wound ." }   
  
  
She displayed a satisfied smile.   
  
  
Stubbornly Terry raised his chin higher to escape the cold hand touching it and said nothing. The way she spoke those words pricked at his already faltering confidence. Having been stripped of all his power so   
quickly and easily left him wondering again at his own ablilities. There was more to Batman than a high-tech suit of armor. There was more to him...   
  
  
"So easily those particular words hurt you. So much that you can no longer speak."  
  
  
{"Do not do this to him... he will speak..."}  
  
  
"I'm not in the entertainment business. Find someone else to amuse your sadistic sense of humor."  
  
  
"Perhaps you should reconsider your career options. I find you quite entertaining. More so than your teacher ever was. Always so serious. He could never savor the moment like you appear capable of."   
  
  
"Who are you?"  
  
  
"You need to ask?" Her soft reprimand bothered Terry. She smiled again. "He-- would know."   
  
  
"I don't know who you're talking about."   
  
  
"Nor would he deny the obvious." She stepped back. "Don't ever lie to me again boy." Her regal nod began the beatings. The blows were directed by her monotone explanations. "Such a pretty face for one considered so dangerous. No wonder you cover it. Who would consider such a countenance threatening?"   
  
  
His face stung from the hit, ears rang.   
  
  
"Let me tell you other reasons why you could never be him. A fine speciman of a man he was. Heart and lungs set within a deep chest with a capacity your puny frame will never achieve."   
  
  
Bony ribs and muscle bruised as they were hammered with precise blows. He endured with gritted teeth.  
  
  
"You don't have the intestinal fortitude to be Batman. Soft. Everywhere you are softer than he."   
  
  
Another well aimed punch to his middle left Terry trying unsuccessfully to double over in reflex against the restraints that held his limbs rigid. He sucked in a breath as soon as he was able and rasped angrily.  
  
  
"You don't know anything about me."  
  
  
"I know what you are not." She smiled serenely. "And I know what you strive futilely to be. A hopeless goal for someone of your caliber. Why do you even try?"   
  
  
"Your words and whatever you do to me won't change the fact that I am Batman."  
  
  
"Who says you are Batman?" she sneered. "Has he ever called you that?"  
  
  
Terry stared hard at her, remaining mute.   
  
  
She scowled in impatience then looked outward at nothing commanding harshly. "Do it!"   
  
  
{"I will not."}  
  
  
"You refuse me?"  
  
  
{"No master. But why must we do this?"}  
  
  
"Do not question."  
  
  
Her black-eyed, penetrating gaze rested on him once more, a knowing grin curled her lips. "You didn't answer my question. Has your teacher ever acknowledged you as successor?"   
  
  
Ignoring her question, he wondered instead at her behaviour. Who was she talking to? Herself? Was she looney? Suddenly it became difficult for Terry to continue his current train of thought. Matching her gaze was no longer possible. An inexplicable feeling of shame intruded. His mind dwelled on her question and left him wondering at the answer. Had Bruce ever called him Batman? He could not recall a time. Does he even think of me as Batman? Or will I always be one of the 'kids' he took in who would never reach the pinnacle of greatness he achieved?   
  
  
Stop it McGinnis! You're not going to let a nameless, insane woman tell you who and what you are. You're Batman. You've proven it again and again. Bruce has never doubted you like you're doubting yourself. He believes in you. Why else would he keep on working with you?   
  
  
If he didn't think I had it in me he never would let me come this far.  
  
  
The feel of a booted foot slammed into his back. Terry arched away from the hurt and concentrated on keeping any unbidden utterences to a minimum. A studied blow used to cause pain and minor injury. They were not trying to kill him. At least not right away. The object seemed to be to just give him a sound thrashing. Why, he could only guess. Bruce would probably have ten reasons why going through his head while being beaten like this. Hell- The Batman probably would have gotten himself out of this mess long before now, but all he seemed to be able to do is try to take it in as manly a manner as possible and not let the doubts of his own worth weaken him even more. He focused on her as she began speaking again, that know-it-all smirk on her beautiful face sickening him for some reason. Where had he seen it before? Was he supposed to know her?   
  
  
"Let us both pretend you are Batman. Tell me why you would take on such an unthankful task? How   
often has Gotham rewarded you for your efforts?"  
  
  
Terry's first unspoken thoughts of defiance and off-the-cuff retorts faded in an onslaught of ambiguity.  
Why am I doing this? What does Gotham mean to me? Is Max right? Are the ideals Batman strives for impossible to achieve? Am I making a difference here? Would the people of this city be any worse off if Batman was no more?  
  
  
He shook his head, desperate to dispel the negative thoughts. They were his thoughts, yes, but they were never so strong. Anyone questions themselves from time to time, but not like this. She was doing something to him. Hypnotizing -- using some kind of mind game he was unaware of. He growled into her face. "No... I'm not playing your game!"  
  
  
The sharp jab into his guts set them on fire. A groan escaped. Bile rose threateningly. He gasped for breath, controlling it.   
  
  
"Who is the one playing a game here pretty boy?" She gripped his chin, yanking his head up. "What gall   
you have to even try imitating the legend."  
  
  
{"Master... please... " }  
  
  
"What does it matter to you?" Terry grated through a burning throat. "You one of his biggest fans or something?" He managed a gurgling chuckle. "Must be older than you look to think you know what the original Batman was like." Her expression twisted into a distinctive look triggering something in Terry's memory that went along with the last words he had just spoken. He did know her somehow....   
  
  
{"He is beginning to recognize --"}   
  
  
A quick wave of her hand and another power-packed body blow from her minions sent the train of thought flying from memory's grasp. Pain filled every awareness. He struggled to remain standing on his own and not sag completely against the supports that bound him. By the time he became aware of his surroundings once more, his five antagonists had left the room. 


	6. Chapter 6

"How did they do it Bruce?" Maxine demanded, words ringing sharp in the airy darkness of the cave. "With the cutting edge technology we have access to and employ on a regular basis in this equipment, how could anyone possibly breach the security measures installed in the car and suit?"  
  
  
"We may have early access to new technology, but new technology gets old fast these days." Bruce sighed, looking very much his age and then some. "I'm getting old too Max. I'm neither as fast or as sharp as I used to be. Truth is ... I do have the latest security codes downloaded into the computer, but haven't taken the time to transfer them. I take full responsibility for what's happened. There's no--"   
  
  
"I'm the one who used to do that." Max murmured, her gaze taking in the familiar sights of the underground cavern. Memories of the many things she had done in this place to insure Batman's success on his nightly rounds protecting Gotham came to her minds eye. "This is my fault. Even when both of us were here for backup there was more than enough work to do to keep him on the cutting edge. I should never have left. I should have known that-- "  
  
  
"Whoa!" Tim stepped out from where he stood in the background. "If you guys need to assign blame save it for another time. Right now let's just concentrate on finding the kid, okay?" Old man and young woman glanced at him then at each other. Maxine nodded and Bruce growled with finality at her.  
  
  
"We'll find him."  
  
******************  
  
  
  
His mental time clock had lost track of the time. How long had he been hanging here? Hours? Days?  
No. Not days. That was just the pain playing games with his head. Pain and thirst. Mouth so parched he could not work up any amount of spit. Lips so dry they cracked when he moved them. Got a little moisture from blood though. Where exactly it came from he did not know or care. It sure was no substitute for water. Thought of the cold, clear liquid had his throat constricting in anticipation. He had asked for water once. Had tried to keep his request irreverent.   
  
  
"Don't suppose you belong to some kind of torturer's guild, where they have rules to follow like... allowing the torturee a cup of water every few hours or something." Her apathetic reply was about what he expected.  
  
  
"If you are able to ask again in twenty-four hours I will consider the request."   
  
  
There was no moisture in the air either. No humidity. They kept it as hot and dry as a desert in this room. And almost as bright. The constant glare was unsettling to him. He had become adapted to the darkness. That's where he found comfort and felt most at ease. There was a certain peace in the absence of light- in the dark of night. Dark Knight. Funny how that name never really meant anything to him until this moment. Stupid play on words. Supposed to be impressive. Strike fear into people. They say it in awe. As if it really means something.   
  
  
Stronger than the craving for water was the desire to prove to himself that he was Batman. That his doubts were unfounded and all her taunting of his abilities were based on some personal dislike, not on any real truth. Why was the feeling so strong? Why did anything she say matter to him?   
  
  
He tried to keep track of the intervals between her visits, between the taunts and beatings.   
  
  
She was not the one who actually beat him. It was her four emotionless minions that were turning his body into spineless mush. No. Three minions. There was the tall, husky one who had never hit him. The other three took turns. Mentally he had put names to each. Weasel was the one who hit the hardest, though not very often. Beaver was the busiest, hitting the most, but pulling most of his punches. Otter had the lightest touch, but always managed to impact the most tender parts of his body.  
  
  
This was some kind of game to her, but he was refusing to play it any longer. He no longer responded to her questions or statements. Nothing he said seemed to get to her, but she sure knew how to get to him. It was like she knew what he was thinking even before he said it. Humoring her had only delayed the inevitable hits, not prevented them. His goal now was to completely ignore her, keep his mind empty of any thought and to respond to the physical blows as little as possible. If she got her jollies from watching him squirm he hoped to disappoint her. Be nice if he could make her show some anger even if he'd have to pay a price for it.   
  
****  
  
  
For the first time since his imprisonment Terry did not notice her arrival. He had been drifting in a blissful semi-conscious haze that let him forget he was sagging against restraints for so long that he could no longer feel his legs, hands or arms. His bruised body had gone beyond feeling pain to a dull, thick numbness and thirst was only a distant memory. At this endless moment he felt absolutely nothing.... until something cold and liquid was splashed forcefully into his face.   
  
He sputtered and coughed as the water worked into his nostrils and down a throat that could not remember how to swallow. Reality came crashing back with such intensity he wanted to whimper like a frustrated child, especially when he saw her in his face, that self-satisfied aura around her that never changed. He was sick to death at witnessing it.   
  
  
"Come now boy," her tone mocked. "Surely your stamina has not given out already."  
  
  
A rush of impotent anger rose inside. Exhausted and galled beyond belief, Terry finally let his emotion explode.   
  
  
"WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!" he roared through parched throat, binding tethers twanging as he lunged at her in helpless frustration.   
  
  
She flinched backwards at the unexpected outburst, giving Terry a measure of satisfaction at finally getting a reaction out of her. But she recovered quickly, looking even more amused than usual. Terry admonished himself bitterly for his weakness as she smiled in delight and chirped.   
  
  
"How nice. I was hoping you would still provide some entertainment for me."   
  
  
{"Master please.. don't do this."}  
  
  
She kept smiling and Terry let his head hang in dejection, water dripping from his face.   
  
  
"You asked a question and I will tell you what I want from you." Her soft fingers dug into his chin and lifted his face to get his attention. "Speak the truth boy." She instructed languidly, as if asking whether he would rather have 'regular or decaf?' "Say you are no Batman and never will be."  
  
  
Terry's body was beginning to shake so hard with anger and physical shock that he could hear his teeth clacking together. Never mind his personal doubts, he could be damned to hell before he would admit them to her. He tried to get the voice out. Batman's voice-- low and ominous. But it too shook.  
  
  
"I.. am.. Batman."  
  
  
She was umimpressed and a subtle wave of her hand let him know how much.  
  
  
The expected blow came and he thought he could not possibly feel any worse for it, but he was wrong. Tall and husky finally got his turn. She saved the best for last. Had to be the last, because he would never survive another.  
  
  
{"Stop! You're killing him!"}  
  
  
Her cool smile was still in place as she watched him writhe against his restraints.  
  
  
Agony took Terry's breath away, brought tears to his eyes. His body cringed, wanting to curl into a ball to escape the hurt. Fire burned in his guts, pulsing and subsiding in ever increasing waves.  
  
  
"Batman." He muttered indistinctly. " I'm Batman. Batma... " He moaned, body going rigid with intense pain, mind crying out to the essence of the word. To the one who had given the name meaning. He needed Batman's strength now. He needed the help of the one who had taught him, sustained his need for purpose. God!...it hurt... Bruce!!  
  
  
{"Help him... "}  
  
  
**  
  
  
At his post in the cave Bruce's thoughts blanked for a moment before an onslaught of pain tore through his mind and body. He gasped, leaning forward in the chair. Just as suddenly it was gone, but it had left an imprint of Terry in his mind, calling out desperately for help.   
  
  
"Bruce?" Tim was squatting beside him, concern strong. "Is it your heart? Should I -- "   
  
  
"No." His voice quavered slightly. "I'm all right." He gazed questioning at Tim and Maxine poised worridly behind him. "I just... " Mind struggling to find the words to describe what had happened left Bruce speechless for a long moment. "I received a strong, sudden feeling of... Terry in pain. We need to find him... help him." The echo of Terry's distress kept ringing in his mind, keeping him off-balance and unable to concentrate fully.  
  
  
***  
  
  
Released from all four bindings at once he felt himself falling to the floor, numbed limbs unable to stiffen in time. The flat surface felt cold against his hands and face, but there was relief in being able to lay here. That relief was short-lived when rough hands gripped his arms and jerked him to his feet. He could feel her eyes watching him, weighing him, measuring his reactions as if he was some kind of experiment.   
  
  
Wanting to deflect her smothering presence, Terry dredged up his last reserves of strength and indignation. It was not enough to straighten his pain-bent position or end the need of the guards' support to keep him upright, but it did let him bore a scathing, cold look into her eyes. An erg of satisfaction bouyed him when she lowered her lids for a moment before addressing him with a haughty dissmissal.  
  
  
"Now I will send you home so that you may grovel at his feet like you should have been doing all along and shame his name no more."   
  
  
The emotion Terry felt building inside him at hearing her words and seeing the egoistic expression she constantly flaunted was something new. It was not hatred. It was something deeper. Bitch!! His thought screamed the simple word in a way his mouth never could. What he would not give to reshape that smug look she wore. Maybe there was something he could do to change it a little...  
  
  
A gob of blood-stained spit from Terry's mouth landed on her face. The guards readied to punish him when she commanded them to stop. A slender hand came up to wipe away the offending mucus. She cast a patient look to where he visibly trembled between the two guards who were the only reason he was still standing. The mouth on his marred face turned stiffly upwards into a semblance of a smile. His low, strained words held defiance.  
  
  
"What you did to me is against the law. Be best if you kill me now. If you don't... I will hunt you down and justice will be served."   
  
  
The threat coming from such a pathetic source was almost laughable yet the conviction behind the words held unshakable promise.   
  
  
"We shall see boy." she replied quietly. "We shall see." 


	7. Chapter 7

Being the leader of this particular bunch of Jokerz was nothing to be proud of. They were the perfect example of what the general public considered any Jokerz to be. Idiots. Still, it was moments like this that made the job interesting. He had no idea why the woman had dumped this particular 'gift' on him, but he would not hesitate to take advantage of it. After all, he was not an idiot himself. Now if he could just cut through all this stupid red tape kinda stuff and get through to the 'Almighty Mister Bruce Wayne'. Had been two hours now that he had been calling different numbers to reach the man without success.  
  
  
"Boss!" Snorty Nort, second in command, came rushing in to disturb him once again.   
  
  
Norton's name had been altered by his fellow gang members because he had an annoying habit of snorting like a pig at the end of his sentences when he got excited. Luckily he did not get excited too often.  
  
  
"Better hurry up and get this over with.{snort} That McGinnis guy's been puk'in blood.{snort} He don't look good.{snort} What if he dies before-- "   
  
  
"Then we lose a big chunk of gain dumbo!" He cut off Nort's sentence to prevent any more of the irritating animal sound from erupting. "Do what you can for him and quit interrupt'in me!"   
  
***  
  
  
"Mr. Wayne." The smiling, garishly painted face looked into the communication vid-link, his nasally voice irritating. "We have something of yours you might be missing." He gestured off-screen then stepped aside as two more Jokerz came into view with a sagging man supported between them. The apparent leader grabbed a handful of black hair on the bowed head, pulling back so the viewers could clearly discern the battered countenence though Bruce already knew who it was. "Look familiar?"  
  
  
Tim and Maxine's expressions of protest and dismay at sight of Terry's beaten face went silent beneath the seething rage coming from Bruce. His ominous expression was set like granite, his hushed voice, icy with well controlled fury.   
  
  
"What have you done to him."  
  
  
The lead Jokerz's smile faded. He released hold of his captive's head, letting it flop downward and took an unconscious step back from the screen.  
  
  
"We didn't do nuth'in to him. That's the way he was when she dumped him on us."   
  
  
Bruce's lips twitched. "Explain." he commanded in a tone that none who heard it would consider disobeying.   
  
  
The clown shrugged broad shoulders, looking uncomfortable. "Just like I said. This dame and a couple guys in weird uniforms carrying this one..." He gave a brief nod in Terry's direction. "...came up to us on the street. She says his name is McGinnis and is connected to you. Says you'd pay big to get him back."  
  
  
"A name."  
  
"Never said. And none of us ever seen her before." Tense silence poised on both sides while Bruce's gaze centered on the half conscious Terry. The muscles in the square-jawed cheeks worked beneath the wrinkled skin.  
  
  
"How far are you from Pier 19?"  
  
  
The Jokerz tensed. Did the guy know they were less than two miles from the place? His reply was hesitant. "Not very."  
  
  
"Tell me what you want and we'll make the exchange there in thirty minutes."   
  
  
The Jokerz hesitated again, surprised by the sudden acquiescence and realizing he had no control over what was happening here and probably had been in over his head from the start. Better not get greedy either since he was the pawn here and not the mastermind. "Fifty thousand and any sign of cops we dump him," he threatened weakly.  
  
  
"No police. You have my word. And if you're not there in thirty minutes you're going to be a sorry bunch of Jokerz." The soft threat carried the promise of a most sincere man.  
  
***  
  
The exchange was made at dusk surrounded by the stink of the polluted harbor, the screech of seagulls, the clang and butts of ship traffic anchored and moving, muted shouts and the splash, slap of water against hulls and pier supports.  
  
  
They met halfway between the parked cars. Gaily dressed Jokerz helped Terry from their vehicle, propping him between them to follow their leader to midpoint where Bruce waited, flanked by Tim and Maxine.   
  
  
Terry resisted the help, pulling away from his two escorts to stand alone. He swayed and staggered a step before finding balance enough to stand straighter and begin to move forward on his own.  
His gaze focused on the distant Max and remained on her as he moved one wobbly leg after another. This macho effort had nothing to do with pride. It came from strong anxiety. He could not let her see the weakness in him that would drive her away again. He needed her thoughtful concern and steadying strength so badly right now that he could taste it, could feel it sustaining him from the moment she laid eyes on him. At this moment she was the focus of his life and a reason to take another step forward.   
  
  
Maxine's strong urge to rush ahead to help the friend whom she had known for the longest time was more than that to her was restrained by Tim's hand touching her arm for a moment. She clasped her hands tight together and watched. He moved as if each step required a major effort. The two Jokerz walking beside him had hands ready to help, but he gave them no sign he needed any.   
  
  
Halting before Bruce, the leader stepped aside to let his captive through. Terry did not even glance at his mentor. His eyes were locked on Maxine, knowing that losing contact with her now would mean his utter collapse.   
  
  
Feeling his need had Max lunging forward. Her arms went carefully around him. She rocked and shifted to a wider stance as his weight settled against her. Head resting weakly on her shoulder, Terry murmured her name with a weary sigh. He was reluctant to release her when Tim came alongside to share Max's burden and help him to the car.  
  
  
  
Bruce was a monolith who stood between the wary Jokerz and the three people behind him heading to the safety of the car. Three of a handful of people whose welfare he held close to his heart. He held the money in front of him, but did not hand it over saying instead. "There's ten more than you asked for in here. You can have it if you give me more detail about the woman."   
  
  
The three clowns exchanged glances before the leader offered. "She was good look'in. Medium height and build. White hair."  
  
  
"White, not blond?"  
  
  
"White and kind of a brittle texture. Strange, but somehow it seemed right on her. Talked like she knew everything and didn't have a care in the world."  
  
  
"Describe her voice."  
  
  
"Sort of deep with a slight exotic-like accent." A different Jokerz piped up.  
  
  
"She had something in her left ear. Looked like a fancy hearing aid."  
  
  
"What about the ones with her. Describe their uniforms."  
  
  
"Real dull. Burgandy colored with white piping around the shoulders and waist. Those guys were kinda zombie-like. Didn't even blink an eye unless she told 'em to."  
  
  
Bruce had a million more questions he could have asked these very cooperative criminals, but Terry was in dire need of medical attention. He tossed the money. "There's more where that came from if you can come up with a name or picture."  
  
  
Tim set the car in motion as soon as both of Bruce's feet were inside. Rapid acceleration propelled the door shut without much help from Bruce. He craned his head around to the back to see Terry stretched out on the seat, an intravenous line already hooked into one hand, the bag of fluids hanging on the hook above his head. Maxine was squeezed onto the car floor, tucking a blanket around him. His eyes were closed in a face mosaic of bruises and swellings. Bruce was certain the body beneath the clothing was just as decorative and that internal damage beneath the skin was threatening the young man's life.  
  
  
Maxine was absently stroking and squeezing Terry's nearest hand. Terry's image on the vidscreen had not prepared her for the real thing. It had taken all of her self control not to wince at the sight of him. She had rarely seen him hurt this bad, but that was not what frightened her the most.   
  
  
This happening was like a slap in the face to her. To all she had come to believe in Batman's skills. The vast experience and wisdom of the elder. The undaunted courage and growing expertise of the younger. If there was one out there who could so easily, casually do this to such strong men then what chance did anyone have? Someone or someones had overridden all the security protocols of the batmobile and suit, kidnapped Terry, tortured him and sent him back, via a gang of nondescript Jokerz, to the only person who would realize the significance of it all. The original Batman. Mentor of the new Batman.   
  
  
Whoever did this knew Bruce and knew how to manipulate his weakness by sending his protege back to him in this condition. Telling Bruce what he thought of his so-called successor. Showing him what a failure the idea was. What a failure Batman was.  
  
  
She glanced up at Bruce, tension in her soft voice. "He's so cold."   
  
  
Terry's hand clasped hers, stopping its movement. His words were faint.  
  
  
"I'm okay Max." He fought to keep weighted lids open. He wanted to reassure her knowing how much she worried. He wanted her to stay in his life and she would not if he could not convince her there was no reason for her concerns. Not likely to work this time when he was too weak to stay awake much less sit up and show her how okay he was. Another failure to add to all the others. She had been the only 'normal' reality in his life for years. While he had struggled with his long slow rise into the insane world of Batman she had been the strong tether to keep him grounded to a portion of the real world and a gentle buffer against Bruce's cold and sometimes harsh mentoring ways. All painful realizations he had come to after she had left, plus an emptiness inside him so complete, it hurt.   
  
  
Desperation gave him strength to grip her hand tight and beseech her attentive look. "Promise you won't leave," he murmured pulling her hand closer to his body. "Stay with me Max."   
  
  
She blinked as her dark eyes began to glisten with moisture. "I'm not going anywhere." A reassuring squeeze of his ice-cold hand and a gentle grin came before Maxine could manage to speak again. "I'm gone for a few weeks and look what kind of mess you get into." Soft husky words teased. "What am I gonna do with you McGinnis?" She wanted to touch his face, sooth the haunted look she saw in his eyes, but could find no place to settle her fingers that would not touch a swelling or a bruise or a cut already there.  
  
  
Terry tried to smile, but his face was to stiff too comply and his throat so tight he could only whisper.  
"Made it too easy for me when you were around. Got spoiled."  
  
  
"I'll keep that in mind for future reference. No more lively debates or singing those little ditties over the link when you get bored. And absolutely no more massages unless you beg me for them. That should toughen you up in no time." A momentary twinkle of amusement in his eyes told her what his facial expression could not.   
  
  
"Missed you," he sighed, eyes closing tiredly.  
  
  
"Hey." She drawled gently, wanting to keep him awake to stave off the shock that was pulling him under. "I want to know why you missed me before you head off into dreamy land. Tell me what you missed most about me. A woman needs to hear those things you know?" When he did not respond she squeezed his hand again. "Terry. Talk to me."   
  
  
His lids struggled to open, mouth moved to speak slurred words in a low murmur. "Everything. Missed everything about you. Your voice... " He paused, trying to focus on her. "Knowing you were always there... waiting for me."   
  
  
She watched his eyes drift shut again, felt his hand begin to relax in her grip. "Terry?"  
  
  
He roused himself, effort visible. "How long?"  
  
  
"We'll be at the hospital in a few minutes." Max reassured.  
  
  
"No. How long have I... been gone?"  
  
  
Bruce answered. "Almost sixty hours."  
  
  
"Huh. S'that all. Seems like... weeks." He made a noise that might have been a chuckle, then shifted as a spasm of pain made him squirm.   
  
  
"Who did this Terry." Bruce's gruff voice held suppressed outrage.  
  
  
"Don't know." He could not get his eyes to stay open and he wanted them open so he could see Max. Being able to see her meant everything could be right again. "Never forget her face though. Better tell the Commish... she's trouble."  
  
  
"What kind of trouble?"  
  
  
"Don't know."  
  
  
"You must know something or you wouldn't be saying that."  
  
  
"Just... she doesn't want Batman in the way." Exertion to continue talking was telling in Terry's voice.  
  
  
"What about a location. Any idea wh-- "  
  
  
"Bruce." Tim objected sternly. "Save it for later."  
  
  
Terry answered, words increasingly sluggish. "Couldn't see... much. North... the car... went.. north. Sor..ry."  
  
  
"It's okay Terry." Tim spoke firm reassurance, turning his head away from the road towards the young man for a moment. "You're going to be all right. You hear me?" Memory of his own experience of mistreatment had reared its ugly head the moment he had seen Terry on the vidscreen. He had made a silent vow to help in any way he could. Right now Terry needed reassurance, not an interrogation. "You will be all right." Max's voice wavered behind him.   
  
  
"He can't hear you anymore. I can barely feel his pulse... Bruce?" There was a childish pleading quality to her tone when she said that name. Bruce's gruff reassurance was no more than Tim expected, yet it was enough.  
  
  
"He'll be all right."   
  
  
Bruce's body virtually creaked as he resumed a straight posture in his seat. Tim pressed a strong hand on the elderly man's shoulder. He knew, despite all Bruce's years of living through the worst that life could offer, that he needed reassurance as much as anyone. "He's strong. He'll be able to work through this."  
  
  
Closing his eyes for a moment, Bruce rumbled weary agreement "I know." 


	8. Chapter 8

"Max... " Terry let out a loud, exasperated sigh and spoke with the snap of irritation. "Will you stop hovering over me?"  
  
  
"Maybe I could if I didn't know you decided to be muley-headed and leave the hospital three days sooner than your doctor wanted."   
  
  
He had wanted to leave as soon as he came to his senses in the recovery room. Fortunately he was too weak to do more than complain and fall asleep again. The next day he was stronger and more adament about his desire, repeatedly asking her to help get him out of the place.   
  
  
Bruce and Barbara had used all of their considerable influence to keep Terry's presence in the hospital secretive. But the longer he stayed the more chance that the news would be leaked to the public. Having to deal with the media would add difficulty to an already strained situation. So Bruce arranged for Terry's release against strong objections from the doctors.  
  
  
"Doctors." Terry snorted. "What do they know anyway?"  
  
  
"They knew enough to perform the major surgery it took to keep you from bleeding to death."  
  
  
"Yeah, well, they did their part. I can do the rest of the healing on my own. By myself Max." He glared up at her. "I don't need you or Bruce standing around waiting for me to fall on my face so you can pick me up again."  
  
  
"We're watching over you to keep you from falling on your face." She emphasized with a forced grin.   
  
  
He scowled, stiffness of myraid healing scratches and fading bruises on his face making the expression difficult to achieve. "I'm fine!"  
  
  
"You forget how well I know you McGinnis." Her voice rose in pitch. "I'll tell you when you get to that point. Now eat!" Maxine turned on her heel and exited the room before she let her anger explode completely. What in the Lord's name was she doing trying to be nice to him? Far from appreciating her efforts he was throwing them back at her with a vengence. He wanted to be left alone, but as much as she wanted to give in to his desire she could not. Intuition told her to remain steadfast because if he ever needed her help, it was now.  
  
  
Terry refused to speak of what had happened to him. When she or Bruce cautiously broached the subject an intangible wall would build around him and he became stubbornly mute. The clues Bruce had put together had not been enough to come up with a viable theory as to why Terry was taken and by whom. He did not appear concerned about it though. In fact, since the moment the doctor had come from surgery to tell them Terry should make a full recovery Bruce seemed-- at peace. None of Terry's continued closed-mouth attitude or anti-social behaviour appeared to phase him in the least. Maxine found it ironic that she now considered Bruce pleasant company compared to Terry when it had been for so long the opposite.   
  
  
Still in a huff, Maxine rejoined Bruce in the mansion dining room and took her place beside the immense table. Her portion of the meal she had cooked for all three of them was waiting. Bruce said nothing as she plunked herself down and began forking food into her mouth, chewing and swallowing mechanically, not tasting any of it. Observing her stabbing angrily at salad leaves that evaded fork tines, Bruce asked quietly,  
  
  
"Are you all right?"  
  
  
Her fork came down on the plate with a loud chinking sound, her face mirroring frustration. "Why won't he talk about it? Wouldn't it be better if he did? Doesn't sharing the burden make it easier to endure?  
I want to help him."  
  
  
"You are." Bruce replied with soft conviction. "Just by being here is helping him more than you realize. He never did quite accept the fact that you left."  
  
  
"I let you both down didn't I?"  
  
  
"Everyone has to follow their own path."  
  
  
She sighed and nodded. "So what happens now? What else can we do for him?"  
  
  
"Give him time. It hasn't been that long yet. You have to keep in mind that like any other victim he has to go through a grieving process. He had to go through the same thing when his father was killed. This time it's even more personal."  
  
  
"I never thought of it that way." Max murmured mulling over Bruce's explanation. "Batman as a victim of crime."  
  
  
"Even before the moment he lost control of the car he had become the target of calculated abuse. I haven't found a single sign that would indicate he had managed any kind of defense much less an offense. Not a mark on the car or the suit and the pattern of the beating- the placement of the blows on his body were meant for torture."  
  
  
Maxine shuddered inwardly as her imagination brought to life a vivid picture of someone hitting Terry while he was totally helpless to stop them or protect himself. The revulsion turned with surprising suddeness to a burning rage inside her. The intensity of hatred toward the unknown torturers consumed her for a moment. Never before had she felt such emotion, the power of it filling her. Revenge. Realization that she just might be capable of harming another human being frightened her. The heated flush of emotion caused a physical reaction in her body. She began to perspire and her head spun dizzily as conflicting urges clashed in her mind. Blindly she pushed away from the table. "I need to go for a walk."  
  
  
Bruce watched her go, heard the door thud shut behind her retreating form. A part of him empathized with her distress. The very thing she had dreaded for so long had become a reality. Distance, gained by rational, mental decision and a span of physical length had not been enough. She had become linked to Terry-- to Batman despite her best efforts to keep her identity seperate from his.   
  
  
His intitial objection to her involvement in the secret of Batman had, thankfully, proven unfounded. She was capable, smart and truly felt a kinship to Batman's cause and not surprisingly, to Terry himself. Bruce had grown to admire how well she balanced her duties as Batman's resourceful backup with her feelings for the man inside the suit.   
  
  
Over the years it had become clear to Bruce how strong Max's feelings had developed for Terry. When the dangers came for Batman, Terry could not see the reactions that Max tried to subdue at her post in the cave. He only heard her voice, steady and upbeat, while Bruce had witnessed her undergoing numerous nervous movements that showed the tension she was dealing with.   
  
  
Batman's intense drive of this past year had compelled Maxine to make a difficult choice. Though she did not complain or confide anything to him and the performance of her duties did not falter, Bruce saw evidence of the long term strain she did not bother hiding from him like she did from Terry.   
  
  
It was after one harrowing experience Batman underwent that prompted Bruce to voice his concern for her. The incident was finished. Batman was all right and heading home. As soon as Max closed the link with him she buried her face in her hands and began to cry.  
  
  
From a distance Bruce could see her body shaking with the almost soundless sobs. He went to her, leaned against the computer console for support and placed a tentative gnarled hand on her shoulder. The words came awkwardly, but not as awkward as they would have been thirty years ago.  
  
  
"Do you want to talk about it?"  
  
  
Keeping her face tilted down Max sniffed, shook her head and dabbed at her wet nose and eyes with the edge of her shirt sleeve. Bruce sympathized.  
  
  
"I know it's harder being on the outside of the action than in the middle of it. You feel like you have no control at all instead of being the one in control. No one likes to feel helpless."  
  
  
Maxine lifted dark glistening eyes to him. Anger in her voice, she gestured to the screen.  
  
  
  
"He's insane." Her head bobbed wildly up and down then she pointed at Bruce. "You're insane." She pulled a hunk of hair away from her head. "I'm going insane." Her arms lifted to encompass the immensity of the cave, voice rising in pitch. "This whole thing is insanity!" Hands pressed now against her temples, she glared at Bruce who eyed her calmly while she continued to rant. "He's going to get himself killed one of these times and then where will we be? Huh? Can you tell me? And for what?! The people in this city don't give a damn about all that he's done for them. In fact, when they do make a comment it's usually about how he doesn't do enough or what he did was wrong."  
  
  
"He's not doing this for recognition Max." Bruce stated easily.  
  
  
"What is he doing it for then? Why is he pushing himself so hard when he's questioning his motivation more and more? Wouldn't it make more sense if he'd slow down, step back or even stop for awhile to see where exactly it is he wants to go?"  
  
  
"Sensible. That would be your style of handling the situation. But you and I both know that Terry isn't much on contemplating. Especially if it's not something he's feeling guilty about. He'll find the answers in his own way."  
  
  
Maxine shook her head in disagreement. "No, he's not trying to find answers. He's just waiting for something to happen. There's a big difference."  
  
  
"Maybe after that 'something' happens he'll have the answer he's looking for."  
  
  
Her head was shaking in the negative again. "Barbara is right. Admit it Bruce. Terry is obsessed with Batman. He can't separate the two anymore."  
  
  
Bruce grinned wryly. "I think you're asking that question to the wrong person."   
  
  
"I guess you're right about that." Max muttered, reaching down beside the chair for her personal bag and digging a tissue out of it to wipe at her reddened eyes.   
  
  
Bruce shifted his position to ease stiff muscles as he spoke. "I don't think obsessed is the right word. I think he's very intent on examining who he is right now. He's pushing himself to discover the limits of his potential and probably... subconsciously, competing with the Batman he thinks I once was. He's set some kind of mental 'bar' for himself that he thinks he has to leap over before considering himself worthy of the name."   
  
  
Maxine finished blowing her nose and uttered reproachfully. "Men! Everything is competition or acquisition or accomplishment. Never satisfied to live the moment. Always looking ahead to climb to a new level."  
  
  
So amused by her statement, Bruce actually smiled and replied tongue-in-cheek. "What about you Max. Are you living in the moment or is there something else you feel you should be doing besides trying to pretend you don't love Terry." He knew his rare attempt at humor failed miserably when Max flashed him an expression of shock that settled quickly into grim acceptance. He saw tears welling in her eyes again.  
  
  
"I can't do this anymore Bruce. But I'm afraid what it will do to both of you if I leave."  
  
  
Sighing heavily, Bruce scrubbed a hand across the contours of his chin. His vaunted insight had unwittingly gotten him into trouble without having planned it. Something that seemed to be happening more as he got older. He sighed again. "You won't do either of us any good if you stick around under duress and we have to witness you gradually 'going off the deep end'. Take care of yourself Maxine. That would be best for all of us. It'll be difficult for awhile after you leave, but I'm sure Terry and I can make a successful  
adjustment."   
  
  
  
That particular episode took place almost two months before Maxine actually left for Amurst. 


	9. Chapter 9

Terry eased himself back against the bed pillows, wincing as the movement pulled on the tender incision across his middle. The brief verbal tussle with Max had tired him. He wondered irritably when this debilitating weakness would go away. He barely had the strength to tend his own needs with none left over to consider doing something productive as the hours slipped by daily. He was loathe to admit to himself that traipsing the four corners of this room and staring out the window was all the productivity he cared to indulge in right now. That and wrestling with the mental demons inside his head. The memories, the   
humiliation, the sense of failure and loss.  
  
  
Sprawled on the bed, Terry gazed dully at the phone lying on the nightstand. He owed his mother a call to keep up the pretense of him being out of town on WayneTech business. While he was missing and in the hospital, Bruce had kept her informed, convincing her Terry was too busy to call himself. As soon as he was able Terry had phoned her. When she noted the fatigue in his voice he admitted he was tired and Bruce was allowing him some vacation time now that the business was finished. He had exhausted himself trying to reassure her when she continued to express worry for him. A promise to call her again in a couple of days finally got her to hang up. That happened two days ago and he was not eager to do it again.  
  
  
He sighed tiredly and picked up the phone, mustering false enthusiasm to help him act the part of healthy, happy son enjoying his rare vacation. Yes he's getting a tan and boy is the water ever clear and there sure is   
a lot to see and.... Terry groaned outloud at the effort and all the lies he would have to remember the next time he saw or talked to her.  
  
  
Plastering a smile on to get in the mood he pushed the correct numbers on the pad. An answer came on the third ring. Matt's gruff voice muttered an impatient hello. Terry relaxed a little knowing Matt would not want to make conversation and could care less about what Terry had to say. One advantage of the strained brotherly relationship anyway.  
  
  
"It's me Matt." he said evenly. "Mom around?"  
  
  
"She's gone out with Tony." Matt replied with the same lack of greeting.  
  
  
"Tony?"  
  
  
"Yeah. Tony. The guy she's been dating for the last month."  
  
  
"Dating?" He clearly heard Matt's derisive snort.  
  
  
"You remember what that is Terry? When a man and woman make an appointment to see each other and   
have a little fun, get to know each other better?"  
  
  
Terry frowned at his brother's scoffing tone. "She never said anything to me about it. I'm just a little surprised." he defended mildly.  
  
  
"You'd be even more surprised, brother, by how many things she never gets a chance to tell you because you never bother spending any time with her." Matt remarked with scathing resentment. Terry was silent for so long that Matt said. "You still there?"  
  
  
Deep weariness dragged at Terry's soft reply. "Just tell her I called, okay?" He did not have the energy to deal with his brother's anger especially knowing it was probably justified.  
  
  
The pause was on Matt's end this time. Terry was about to end the connection when Matt spoke up quietly. "You okay Terr?" The touch of true concern in his brother's voice triggered untapped emotion in Terry. His throat tightened as he fought a sob that rose unbidden. Forcing himself to respond, his husky words shook.  
  
  
"Everything is shway with me Matt. Make sure that's the message she gets. We don't want her to worry." He ended the connection quickly. The phone slid from his slackened grip, falling to the carpeted floor beside the bed. Draping an arm across his eyes, he let the sobs come.  
  
***  
  
  
Soft light bathing the dark room roused Terry from his numb state. A young girl's pained, apologetic voice was saying over and over. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. He gave me no choice. I'm so sorry I had to hurt you. I didn't want to. He's the most evil person I've ever known. I'm sorry Batman. So sorry..."  
  
  
Terry's eyes adjusted to the sight of a ghostly figure hovering near his bed. Gangly, with long black hair and soft luminous eyes that were shining with unshed tears. "Who are you?" He asked dully, unable even now to work up any feeling of wonder or urgency at the rare sight.   
  
  
"Oh, I should have known you wouldn't .... This is how you remember me." The translucent figure changed shape before his blurring eyes. The young girl became a child of six or seven, clutching a stuffed doll with antennas coming from its head. Memory of his first dealings with the Brain Trust came quickly into focus.  
  
  
"Tamara?" he whispered, levering into a sitting position. As the little girl nodded an affirmative her figure was transformed into the older version doing the same. A slight smile came to his lips as he murmured. "You've grown."  
  
  
Tamara nodded sadly, her voice thick with pent-up emotion. "And all I ever do is cause you trouble you have never asked for. I understand you Batman. Your cause is a noble one. It is that rightness inside of you that drew me to you the first time. I did not realize at that time how much you risked for my sake. And now to repay your kindness I have caused you unimaginable hurt."  
  
  
"I don't understand." Terry shook his head slowly. "You've done nothing to me. What -- "   
  
  
"I was there," she interrupted miserably. "I helped him hurt you. I told him the feel of your thoughts.  
He used it to hurt you. He knew how to use that information to make you suffer."  
  
  
"You're talking about .... " Terry found it hard to say the word that his memory played back as torture.  
  
  
"Yes." Tamara replied softly. "Body and mind he wounded you. And I helped him."  
  
  
"It was a woman who -- "   
  
  
"No! He is stronger. He controls the body." she corrected vehemently. Terry ran a hand across his eyes, his sluggish mind refusing to make sense of her words.   
  
  
"Let me see if I got this right. You know what happened to me. You were there. And the woman who was controlling the situation was actually a man. And this man knew everything I was thinking because you told him." Tamara nodded positive after each of his statements until the last. She corrected.  
  
  
"I can't read your mind. I don't really know what you're thinking, but I can feel the... emotion behind it.  
I also can... change its intensity."  
  
  
Terry studied her shifting, shimmering form while mulling her words. An obvious question came.  
  
  
"Why did you help if you didn't want to? Does she- he have some kind of hold on you?"  
  
  
"My parents." She replied in a whisper. "He threatens their lives if I don't cooperate."  
  
  
Terry nodded solemn. He remembered talking with her parents. When the Brain Trust had kidnapped her they had been grief-stricken and told Batman everything they knew when they realized he was trying to find her. A spark of righteous anger flared inside and faded. He was through fighting for others. Curiosity persisted though. "Who is this... person? Does he have a name?"  
  
  
"She calls him, father." That part of the reply was hushed with distaste, the next was softened with fondness. "She calls herself, Talia."  
  
  
A sinking, dread feeling descended over Terry as he absorbed the new knowledge. "Talia? But..." he looked up at Tamara in puzzlement. "She doesn't look at all like I remember.. her hair had been dark and her skin... " Tamara's head nodded sadly.  
  
  
"The conflict within that single mind is-- horrible. The body pays the toll for the madness inside. She fights him. You have her to thank that you left that place alive. He would have killed you, but she could not tolerate knowing the disappointment her 'beloved' would feel if you were to die."  
  
  
Beloved. He had heard Talia call Bruce that more than once when he had witnessed them together years ago. While contemplating all this new information he noticed Tamara's form fading. He reached out an arm as if he could stop her from leaving. "Wait - Tamara - there's more I need to ask you."  
  
  
"I haven't the strength to stay any longer. Know that I truly did not wish any of this to happen Batman. Forgive me."  
  
  
The last light of her shimmering form faded and Terry laid back in the total darkness, his mind whirling with all he had just learned.   
  
  
**************  
  
  
  
Vince was beginning to regret the day he was first introduced to her. She treated him like a nobody even though without him her plan wouldn't have a chance of working. He replied dutifully, knowing that any other tone of voice might set her off again. After what happened last time he made sure he was showing the 'proper respect' as she called it. His mind still could not stop replaying the sight of Arnie with his throat slit, all because he chuckled at something she said. Done so smooth and fast by one of her men that no one had a chance to react until after the fact. Probably would happen to him too if he tried to back out of this deal.   
  
  
"All of our people are in place. When you say go they go."  
  
  
"You will remain patient. The day will come, but not soon."  
  
  
****************  
  
  
  
  
Bruce woke from his light doze, gaze focusing automatically up at the monstrous computer screen in the batcave annex. The same information was displayed as before he nodded off. All the clues he had gathered so far. The only peices of the puzzle he had found that would tell him what Terry refused to.  
  
  
Maxine had not seen the latest information yet and he was reluctant to ask for her input. He doubted she could pull her mind away from preoccupation with Terry long enough to come up with anything helpful.  
  
  
Pressing a button on the console brought up a different display. With the same kind of instinctive surety that had told him the time he had spent in the Lazurus Pit had slowed his aging or had bought him a few more years of life; he knew Gotham City was being exposed to an unidentified evil. The signs were there. Had been for over a month. Terry's abduction was probably a part of the grand scheme. Perhaps a centerpoint-- 'Do all you can until Batman is out of the way. After he is, the chain of events accelerates to a conclusion'.   
  
  
What kind of evil? What conclusion? Who had done this to Terry? Who is it that could mock me this way? Who would have the calculated control to want to teach both Terry and I a lesson in humility instead of just destroying us?  
  
  
Terry's silence had to end now. This went beyond personal. The welfare of Gotham was at stake. If Terry could not see past his own pain then he was not the man Bruce had thought he was.   
  
  
  
  
  
Bruce entered despite Terry's clear objection. The young man made no protest, just turned his back to the intrusion. Leaning on his cane a few steps inside the room Bruce waited respectfully for a number of seconds before speaking. "We need to talk."  
  
  
"No, we don't." Terry replied without facing him. Not once had Terry looked him in the eye since his return from missing status. A fact Bruce found disquieting and no longer tolerable. His grip tightened on the cane handle, voice lashing out impatience.   
  
  
"Look at me when you're speaking to me!"   
  
  
He observed his protege flinch slightly at his sharp words. Fear? Terry was afraid of him? The young man who, years ago, had no compunction about forcing his way into Bruce's isolated, forbiding existence to demand he solve the mystery of his father's murder and who willfully and boldly stole the batsuit without thought of the consequences was now almost cowering at his presence? He said again, gently. "We need to   
talk Terry."  
  
  
Pivoting slowly in the chair, Terry faced in his direction, but kept his eyes lowered. "I'm through with this Bruce. There's nothing else to say." Though the word 'this' was about as nondescript a term as possible in the english language, Bruce knew exactly what it meant to Terry.  
  
  
"I'm not here to discuss your future. I need to know about your recent past. And you're the only one who can tell me."  
  
  
"Why do you have to know?" His suspicious reply was accompanied by raised eyes.  
  
  
"Because what happened to you is most likely just a small example of what lies ahead for Gotham. I need to know more. If we can come up with an identity or motive for your abduction then it might be possible to understand what this woman is planning."  
  
  
Terry lowered his gaze to Bruce's feet and the bottom of the cane beside them.   
  
  
He braced himself for whatever Bruce might say. For the longest time it was nothing and the feet he stared at did not move.   
  
  
"I'm an old man Terry. Old. I've lived almost four of your lifetimes. Can you imagine what that's like?   
Probably not. You see the shell of what I am, but only a small part of what's inside. That's all I wanted you to see. I didn't want to scare you away." He grinned briefly, but Terry did not see it still looking at the   
floor. "But now you are afraid. That must be why you can't look at me. Whoever did this to you knows me and has told you things about me that-- "  
  
  
"I'm not afraid of you." Terry's head came up, eyes meeting Bruce's. "Or of anyone else."   
His gaze shifted to the floor again. After a long silence Terry spoke with reluctance.   
  
  
"I didn't know who she was until the visitor I had last night told me." Terry did not look, but he could imagine the old man's brow's furrowing as his mind ran through the reason's why any visitor to the mansion was not detected by the security equipment. "This visitor didn't come in a physical form. Do you remember a young girl named Tamara Caulder?"  
  
  
"Yes."  
  
  
"Tamara was involved in... this. She told me the woman's -- " He stopped himself, brow furrowing, then started again. "He's -- " Terry grimaced and shook his head. "It!" He spat, looking square at Bruce, disgust filling his expression, turning his lips into a half-sneer. "iIt/i - was one of yours. From your past. That freak. The one who -- took over his own daughter's body."  
  
  
As understanding filtered through Bruce's mind, his complexion darkened with the heat of growing anger. His eyes narrowed, no longer seeing Terry, his mind picturing one of his worst enemies. Without a word or further glance at the young man who was eyeing him intently now, Bruce shuffled slowly from the room. 


	10. Chapter 10

It was the last straw for Max. The fifth day since he had come home and nothing had changed. His distant self-pity act was beginning to affect her too now. His constant refusal of any comfort or help she tried to offer had gotten her feeling so sorry for herself that she wanted to cry enough for both of them. Tears began to well in the corners of her eyes as she picked up the untouched tray of food she had spent hours preparing. Saying nothing she headed to the door then stopped and half turned towards Terry's brooding form.   
  
  
"I'm leaving tomorrow. Going back to work. At least there all my efforts won't be wasted."  
  
  
He looked up at her, met her glistening gaze for a moment then lowered his head without a word. Maxine left the room, a bitter thread to her thoughts, thinking it was hell with or without him. There was no way she could win any peace of mind.   
  
  
A soft knock on her room door startled Maxine where she lay reading on the bed by lamplight. Terry's muffled voice came through from the other side. "Max? I'd like to talk to you."  
  
  
She was reluctant to respond, resentful that he would expect her to jump just because he decided to act human for a change. "About what?" she offered loudly from her supine position.  
  
  
"About what a jerk I am." He responded readily.  
  
  
"Got that right." She replied with conviction. "Any other old news you want to discuss?"  
  
  
"Not with a door between us."  
  
  
"Then it can wait."  
  
  
Silence for so long she thought he had left. She was ashamed to find herself smiling when he spoke again. "Come on Max."  
  
  
Sliding from the bed she padded soundless to the door. Her hand hesitated by the knob. She heard the weariness in his tone now. "Please?"  
  
  
With one hand braced against the doorframe and the other palmed against the door itself, Terry was unprepared to compensate for Max's sudden door opening. Body canting abruptly to the change, he literally fell into Max's reflexive outreaching of arms. She fell backwards, his weight adding momentum, the floor rushing up to meet them.  
  
  
Ingrained rescuers training had Terry twisting his body to take the brunt of the fall on himself. He heard Max's gasp of protest as she felt him muscle her around and gasped himself when fresh pain ripped through his middle. A split second later they were sprawled on the floor.  
  
  
Maxine rolled off of Terry who lay still, a grimace etched across his features.  
  
  
"Smart move McGinnis," she chastised while her anxious gaze scanned him worridly. "Of all the stupid--"  
  
  
"I was just trying to protect you." He muttered through gritted teeth.  
  
  
"From what? My pride?"  
  
  
Terry flashed her a harried look. "More than that would be hurting right now if I had landed on you."  
He knew he outweighed her by at least forty pounds.  
  
  
"I appreciate your consideration, but if you managed to mess up your insides because of me I will be very angry."  
  
  
"Nothing's messed up. The muscles around there are sore, that's all." Terry dismissed her concern and rolled to sit up slowly, not objecting to Max's help when he struggled to a stand. Sudden dizziness assaulted his senses and he swayed, grabbing at her for support. She was ready this time, steadying and urging him towards the nearby bed where they both settled on its edge. He muttered, disgust in his tone,   
  
  
"I had wanted you to come back, but not like this. Not just so you could baby me some more."   
  
  
"I'm not babying you." Max resented the meaning he put to the word. Baby, was not a word she would use to describe him or how she felt towards him right now. "I'm your friend. I care about you. I want to help you through this. You'd do the same for me."  
  
  
"You're too smart to end up like this. You've got it all figured out."  
  
  
"Got what figured out?"  
  
  
"Life."  
  
  
Disbelief raised her eyebrows and compelled a snort of amusement. "Sorry to disillusion you Terr, but using commonsense does not give me any special insight into the meaning of life."  
  
  
Terry lowered his downcast expression, hands idly fingering the flaps of his robe. Max sighed.  
  
  
"Terry, you were abducted - kidnapped - taken against your will and beaten within an inch of your life. It wasn't your fault. You did nothing wrong. You have nothing to be ashamed of."  
  
  
"It shouldn't have happened Max. It wouldn't have happened to him. He would have found a way out. Damn it to hell!" His fist slammed hard onto the bed, making it bounce, mattress springs twanging loudly. "I shouldn't have let it happen!"   
  
  
Jaw and neck muscles tensed and became pronounced as the anger coursed through him. His mind kept projecting the smug female face of his torturer along with the sickening knowledge of who it really was. The mind of Ra's Al Ghul inside his own daughter's body, controlling it against her will.   
  
  
Max's soft words cut through the turmoil.  
  
  
"What could you have done differently?"  
  
  
A deep, gravelly voice sounded from the doorway. "There was nothing he could have done Max. Ra's Al Ghul is a meticulous planner of any operation he undertakes. He's had hundreds of years of experience to know exactly what needs to be done. Only a rare bit of unforseen circumstance or a miracle could have left Terry with an out."  
  
  
"You're just saying tha--" Terry began, but Bruce did not let him finish.  
  
  
"To make you feel better?" Bruce's mirthless chuckle was shortened by growled words. "Since when."  
  
  
Terry grimaced, body straining in Bruce's direction. "You would have found a way!"  
  
  
Bruce closed his eyes as vibrations of the young man's rage washed against him. He drew in a slow breath before replying. "Tell me what happened. Every detail. Then I'll tell you what I could have done."  
  
  
The men stared hard at each other, tension so thick between them that Maxine squirmed in discomfort.  
Terry's jaw muscles flexed as he ground out, "It doesn't matter. Telling you isn't going to change anything.  
It's all in the past now."  
  
  
"A past that will haunt you the rest of your life if you let it."  
  
  
"And you're an authority on that aren't you."   
  
  
"Yes." Bruce replied quietly, casting a benevolent look on Terry. "I probably am." With that said he moved away and headed down the hallway to his own room.   
  
  
  
Max and Terry sat on the bed in motionless silence for a time.  
  
  
Terry shifted, gingerly lifting himself from the bed. Max remained unmoved while watching his stiff gait towards the door. He paused and turned, a steadying hand on the knob.  
  
  
"I just wanted to apologize to you for my behaviour before you left. I know you're only trying to help ."  
  
  
"Did you really think I'd leave so soon?"  
  
  
"Why not." he replied monotone, that bland set to his face. "There's no reason for you to stay."  
  
  
Though he displayed no accusation in voice or body language, Maxine felt it smack against her. Hard. Breath left her for a moment as if she had been physically punched. She heard what he would not say,  
'You left me once Max. No reason why you wouldn't do it again. I can't trust you anymore.'  
  
  
'But I came back.' she heard the plantive voice inside her head protest. 'I didn't abandon you. Not really. I never stopped thinking about you.' She swallowed, throat constricting with emotion, making her words tight. "Are we still friends?"  
  
  
His dark brows furrowed. "What kind of question is that?"  
  
  
"One that deserves an honest answer."  
  
  
Eyelids dropped, head bowed and she heard his almost inaudible sigh. When he did not speak she did.  
  
  
"You know I just realized only a moment ago how angry you are with me for leaving. You are, aren't you. That's what this is all about. That's why you keep pushing me away."   
  
  
The eternity of a full minute seemed to pass before his reluctant response came. The intense blue of his eyes was bright in the pale, wound mottled face when he looked at her. "You've always been there for me Max-- from the very beginning. I don't know what I did to deserve that kind of loyalty from you, but I came to depend on it. No matter what crazy things happened in my life I knew you'd be there helping me keep my head on straight, helping me find my focus again. Then that one day you left. You just walked away." Disbelief shook his voice. There was accusation in his eyes now, pointed directly at her. "I kept trying to convince myself that you had good reasons, that I didn't want you to lose your sanity either, that you weren't necessarily leaving me- just the job. But it didn't work. It all kept coming back to one thought. That after all this time you've- finally- given up on me."   
  
  
Her head moved back and forth in objection. "Never. I would never do that. You can't really believe that."  
  
  
"I don't know what I believe anymore." His harsh mutter was filled with confusion. Head dipped and came up. "I'm sorry Max. Sorry that it had to end this way."  
  
  
"End?"  
  
  
"You should know, that as far as I'm concerned -- " The look of finality in his eyes underscored his solemn words. "--Batman is no more."  
  
  
Max's mouth opened in astonishment. It was a long while before she found her voice.   
  
  
"You..." You're not serious, she wanted to say. You're still too much in shock to make that kind of decision. Batman is too much a part of you to let it go. You'll be lost without him. She rose unconsciously from the bed. "I-- I don't know what to say."  
  
  
"Since you're leaving tomorrow, maybe this is a good time to say..." he shrugged. "..so long."  
  
  
She searched his face for a sign that he did not really mean what he was saying, but found nothing except resolute assent. With a sad grin she remarked softly. "Touche."  
  
  
Terry's head cocked slightly in question.  
  
  
"Now I think I know how you felt when I left. It hurts no matter what side you're on doesn't it."  
  
  
His expression did not change, yet a profound weariness suddenly emanated from him. Max decided to bring the uncomfortable interlude to an end.  
  
  
"Well." She somehow produced a warm smile. "You should get some rest and I need to do some packing so I guess I'll say goodnight and -- goodbye."   
  
  
Terry met her gaze for a tentative moment, before nodding and gradually pulling the door shut behind him as he silently left her presence.   
  
  
Maxine stared dazed at the the surface of the ornate wooden door, her thoughts a jumble of regret, sadness and simmering anger. All three emotions, fighting for prominence inside her, twisted her face into an odd expression and compelled an anguished whisper.  
  
  
"Damn you McGinnis. This isn't over. I know this isn't over." Even with the words spoken outloud she was not sure what they meant. Was she thinking of their friendship or his being Batman or something her thoughts were alluding to without becoming clear?   
  
  
****************  
  
  
Terry stood by the undraped, floor to ceiling window and watched until the sight of Max's car was lost behind the thick woods that bordered the winding driveway. He continued staring into the distance, trying to block the fresh sense of loss that came unsolicited. The sound of Bruce speaking was a welcome distraction, but the old man's words were not.  
  
  
"The first time she left I stopped you from going after her. This time I strongly encourage you to do so. You need her."  
  
  
Terry turned away from the window and walked to the center of the room where Bruce reclined, his ever available cane hooked on the cushioned chair arm. Terry's response was cool, without anger.   
  
  
"I don't need anyone. Least of all her. And who are you to talk about needing someone. You - the epitome of aloneness."  
  
  
"If that is true, then I should be an authority on knowing what type of personality is capable of surviving it and I'm sure you don't fit the mold." He watched as Terry settled himself stiffly onto a hardbacked chair, a flicker of pain crossing his face. The young man relaxed after a few seconds, but he made no effort to take up the thread of conversation. After a long silence Bruce tried again. "Do you know what your plans for the future are yet?"  
  
  
"As a matter-of-fact I have been thinking about it." His calm reply was accompanied by a direct look at Bruce and the settling of folded hands on his lap. "You've spent a lot of effort, time and money working with me, trying to mold me into something that might benefit you and this city. Even though part of your investment didn't pan out I'd like to believe the other part could amount to something you might be proud of someday."  
  
  
"Stop selling yourself short Terry." Bruce made an effort to keep the anger from his words. This continual self-doubting of his ability was frustrating to witness. If Terry could only see himself in the proper perspective he would know how effective his efforts these past years have been. "Even if you sat the rest of your life on that chair doing nothing, I could not be more proud of you than I am right now."  
  
  
"Let's stop pretending Bruce. We both know what I am."  
  
  
"And what is that?"  
  
  
Mouth going taut, dark brows lowering, Terry gave his head a dismissive jerk. "Anyway- I was hoping you'd let me stay on as your associate. I'll understand if you say no to that. If you do, know that I'll refuse to leave the manor regardless. The least I can do to repay you is by making sure you're all right and the easiest way to do that is if I make this home base. I'll even pay rent if you want."  
  
  
Bruce closed his eyes and sighed. "That won't be necessary. As far as I'm concerned this is your home for as long as you live. As for your position at WayneTech, it never crossed my mind to deny it to you. No matter what you think, you've been making a positive impact there just like you have in my life and in every life that calls Gotham home."  
  
  
"Sure I have." Terry scowled with the sardonic reply. He met the censure in his mentor's piercing gaze for a moment before lowering his face.  
  
  
Bruce stared at the bowed head, a single word repeating over and over in his mind. 'Patience.'   
  
  
Standing by and witnessing Terry wallowing in a pit of self-doubt so deep that he could not find a way to reach him, he had to mentally shout the word. 'Patience.' When thoughts of Ra's; being near, of what he had done to Terry, of the evil he was planning; bubbled incessantly to the fore of his mind he shoved them ruthlessly back with that single word. 'Patience.' When he realized the toll Maxine was inflicting on herself by stubbornly denying her true feelings he reverently murmured the unspoken word. 'Patience.' When he doggedly continued to monitor criminal activities happening within Gotham and saw a sharp increase in occurrences after less than a two week absence of Batman's presence he growled the thought word. 'Patience.' When he realized the driving force of his own impatience was impairing his judgement, he inhaled a deep breath, let it out slowly and said the silent word. 'Patience.' Wisdom of a long lifetime told him that seeds of patience always bore an ample harvest of accomplishment. Bruce uttered the word softly.  
  
  
"Patience."  
  
  
Terry raised his head. "What?"  
  
  
"I was telling myself that I should be more patient."   
  
  
"Ah... " Terry frowned. He had never encountered anyone even remotely close to the degree of patience  
Bruce was capable of enduring. "Right."   
  
  
A minute grin turning up the corners of his old mentor's mouth, left Terry wondering what was so amusing.  
  
  
************************  
  
  
"Come here child."  
  
  
Tamara emerged from the shadowed corner to stand beside the female human body that held the essence of her evil master.   
  
  
The four scientists that sat around the far end of the table watched in tense silence as she approached. They knew why she was here. The innocent appearance of this pre-teen youngster hid the truth of what she really was. A freak. An enigma. A type of human their limited knowledge of existence told them was not supposed to exist.   
  
  
"Tell me if they speak the truth."   
  
  
The four fidgeted, avoiding the girl's unfathomable eyes as they rested on each of them for a single count. Her eyes closed, long black lashes fanning the upper edge of her cheeks. A child's voice answered.  
  
  
"They are.. uncertain of the truth."  
  
  
Ra's/Talia leaned forward, placing thin-skinned, bony hands flat on the table in front of her. The scientists shifted some more beneath her pointed gaze. This woman was even more frightening than the girl.  
There was nothing remotely soft or giving about her that indicated the gentleness most women were capable of. Her voice held a cold, cruel edge that belied her feminine appearance.  
  
  
"You have one week to dispel the uncertainties you feel about this matter. If the device is not ready by then your lives will be forfeit and I will resume my search for others to succeed where you have failed."  
  
  
The lone female physicist lifted her eyes to send an uncertain gaze towards Ra's/Talia, her voice subdued as she spoke. "Permission to speak Master Ra's?" She continued at sight of the affirming nod. "The device is operational, but we are concerned about the secondary effects it seems to be causing." Master Ra's expectant stare bade her to go on. "All of the instruments we've set up to measure the surrounding different dynamic energies show massive fluctuations whenever the device is activated. We're not sure what it all means-- how dangerous it is disrupting the physical nature of life's energy. We've planned a series of experiments tha-- "  
  
  
"One week. That is all. You may leave." Ra's/Talia's bored orders were accompanied by an unhurried shift back in her chair. The woman and three men eagerly rose and scurried nervously past their seated captor and the solemn girl who stood beside her. The acoustics in the dimly lit conference room muffled their hurried steps. In moments the muted swish of the door was finished and the room held complete silence.   
  
  
"What are you thinking child?"  
  
  
"That I wish to be gone from your presence." Tamara replied dully.  
  
  
"What else?"  
  
  
"That I hate you." Her tone remained emotionless, but deep inside the emotion seethed nonstop.  
  
  
A spontaneous guffaw erupted from Ra's. He continued to express high-pitched amusement, his laughter reaching hysterical proportions.   
  
  
Tamara closed her eyes tight, forcing herself to remain unmoved where she stood by his side. Her slim hands clutched convulsively on the material of her pant legs. Each time the mad laughter took hold of him a small amount of her own sanity slipped away with it. She called on the tears to come, the only sign she had to tell her there was still some innocence left within her. The taste of salty wetness on her lips gave her small comfort along with the silent plea she lifted to any who would hear and help.   
  
  
Did she deserve any rescue after all she had done? There was one who had rescued her in the past that she had hoped desperately would do so again. But after what she had helped Ra's do to him she knew that that certain hope was gone.   
  
  
No. There was no hope left for her, but she would not give up until she found a way to save her parents.  
They were all that mattered. They had sacrificed so much for their genetically flawed daughter. Continuing to love her despite the strange, frightening abilities she had begun to manifest at a very young age.  
  
  
Tamara's resolve strengthened as the maniacal laughter went on and on.   
  
  
__________________________________________________________________________________  
  
The End of Part One  
  
  
  
I'm dedicating this story to one of my wonderful sisters, who has been steadfast in reassuring me that my writing is worth reading. She, of course, is prejudiced.  
  
Many thanks to all the fanfiction writers out there who have given me hours and hours of reading enjoyment.  
There is so much talent 'brewing' at so many different levels out there. It's exciting to be a part of it!  
  
Thank you to all who have read, enjoyed and took the time to review this story. I hope I haven't disappointed too much.  
  
I've been writing for my own pleasure and therapy for a couple of decades, but I never knew that 'fanfiction' exisited until our family purchased its first computer a few years ago. What a pleasant surprise to find there are others with the same kind of obsession I have! I'm no longer alone!  
  
Since I've never really written for anything but my own satisfaction I've never felt a need to complete a story. Knowing I have a possible audience will compel me to finish this one and I hope when it's finished you won't be sorry you had to wait. 


	11. Chapter 11

Author's note: I am an extremely slow writer. I just want any reader who might be waiting for this story to be finished to know that I'm working on it. My intention was to present the whole thing at once, but it'll be months until it's done. When I'm writing I hop all over the place and peice it together when all the important parts are finished, so it's hard to post a chapter at a time.   
  
Anyway... this chapter is complete (I hope) and I thought posting it might be a good idea because: a. there is a possibility I could croak of old age before the whole thing is done and no one would get to read what is done. b. if you're like me, always looking for updates on unfinished stories, you maybe would appreciate this offering.  
  
Please feel free to offer any feedback. I want to improve my word skills as much as any writer would.  
  
Thanks for your patience.  
STUMBLING TOWARDS DESTINY  
Part Two  
Down these streets I've walked alone/ As if my feet were not my own / such is the path I've chose/ doors I have opened and closed/ I'm tired of living this life / fooling myself// /this world bound in chains that we live in///Where's your conviction of the heart/ /////Kenny Loggins  
------------------------------------------------------  
------------------------------------------------------  
  
What do you want McGinnis? What do you want? Where's the conviction gone? Where is everything I once believed in? What do I do now? Where are the dreams and promises I once cherished and lived by?  
WHO AM I?!!!!  
  
***********************************  
  
The dream again. Always the same dream. Max in all her etheral beauty standing before me- beckoning me with her eyes. And ghostly behind her is the shape of Batman. He moves as she moves. They move as one, yet she does not seem to know what is behind her. She keeps calling me without words, her body's sensuous curves moving, undulating, arms stretched towards me, long tapered fingers reaching as if to grab me.   
  
The silhouetted, almost transparent figure behind her stops and settles crossed arms on his chest, pointy-eared head tilted to one side, legs set wide in a waiting stance while her movements become less graceful, more desperate. She begins to cry, her full lips pull downwards in sadness, arms still reaching for me.  
I cannot move. I know I am there, but I cannot move. My body strains towards her, wanting to go to her- comfort her, but it is like I am a rock. Carved from the rock cliffs that the Wayne mansion sits atop- from the stalagmites that stand in the coldness of the batcave. My arms, my legs, my head, any moving body part is immobile, unable to separate itself from the rock that makes me what I am.  
  
Her silent despair comes across so clear and strong that it tears me inside. I try harder to break free, wild with a growing madness to close the distance, to touch her.   
  
Behind her Batman flows towards her, fluid arms wrap around her, enfold her tight in his embrace while she struggles to break free. He is sucking her in, devouring her in his shadowed darkness. She begins to disappear and I know with an unknowable certainty that she will be lost to me forever. That thought frightens me more than any known memory. The silence is deafening with a sense of desolation. She is almost gone now and I scream in anguished protest knowing I will not be heard and that it will not stop Max from disappearing......  
  
"Terry!" A harsh voice growled, pulling me from my nightmare. "Snap out of it. Terry!"  
  
Return to reality was wrought by a sudden plunge upward and the sound of someone's heavy breathing. Mine. I was sucking in gigantic gulps of air as if having climbed twenty flights of stairs without stopping. Heat flushed my body. Sweat ran in rivulets down my face and armpits. My eyes snapped open to see the old man staring at me with a pained, impatient look. I felt him release the grip he had digging into my shoulder as he straightened his bent position beside the bed.   
  
He had a two-handed grip on his cane, leaning against it for balance while watching me with that peircing gaze of his. My hand shook when I raised it to wipe the sting of sweat from my eyes. I swallowed, my throat having a raw, parched feeling to it as if--   
  
"Was I being noisy again?" I murmured thickly, embarrassed,already knowing what the answer would be.  
  
"Luckily Ace decided not to join in this time." Bruce replied in chagrin then frowned. "The same dream as the other times?"  
  
I nodded and continued to calm my tensed body.  
  
"You need to talk to someone about this Terry. Dreams have a purpose. This one is demanding you pay attention to it. If you can't figure out what it's trying to tell you on your own then get someone to help you interpret it. I know a couple of therapists that- "   
  
"No." My monotone reply was followed by a swing of my legs to the opposite side of the bed. "I know what it means." Ace was waiting, his cold inquiring nose sending a chill down one hot limb. I cradled the big snout in my hands and let the animal nuzzle against my chest. Who was feeling more comfort from the gesture, I would not bother to guess.  
  
"Do you?" Bruce's question held skepticism.  
  
"Yep. Real simple actually." I twisted around towards him, a partial grin on my face. "Means I gotta stop mixing beer and vodka for a nightcap." He was not amused. With a dismissive grunt he left, the dog immediately following behind. The hall light that had been shining into the bedroom disappeared as the door closed. I sat alone in the darkness, my thoughts mulling over the dream.  
  
What did it mean? That I missed Max? I'd been feeling that regularly since the week after she left the first time. Being with her those few days after the- incident, pretending I didn't want or need her and all but literally kicking her out of the mansion did not make the feeling go away. Actually made me feel worse. Why would she want to stick around with a jerk anyway? Lately I was having a problem tolerating even myself.   
  
Probably had something to do with not being Batman anymore. You think?! Geez McGinnis, sometimes I wonder about you. Just because you decided to give up the one thing in your life that took up every thought and minute of your waking and occasionally, sleeping time for over four years shouldn't make you think that you're a bit screwed up right now does it?  
  
How about guilt? Duh! Another monumental understatement coming from my brilliant mind. Jerk or not, I can't forget the knowledge that Gotham is playing unwilling host to one of the original Batman's most dangerous enemies, who is now more twisted and lunatic than he had ever been before. Unexplained things were happening in the city and he didn't have to guess to know the cause of it. And how about the fact that this creep has under his tight grasp, an innocent young girl coerced into helping him by the threat of harm to her parents.   
  
Guilt? Yeah it's gnawing at my innards in a way being Batman never did. Trying to get lost in my work, attempted denial and even my escalating drinking habit hasn't been any kind of shield against the growing internal hole of pitiful cowardice I'm feeling.  
  
So why not give in? Why not go back to being Batman? Bruce never said a word about it to me, but I know he's waiting for me to do it. Barbara too. Never in words. Just a feeling... and the way they never talk about it at all. I don't know. I don't know anything for sure anymore.   
  
Maybe if I could talk to someone about all this stuff in my head. Someone who knows about me and who I don't have to hide things from. Someone like.... Max.   
  
Why do I think Max is the answer to all my problems? Why am I so fixated on her? There are plenty of other beautiful, interesting women who've shown signs of wanting to know me better.   
  
Maybe because, unlike them, she's never been swayed by my looks or position beside one of the most reknowned men in this part of the world. When I was with her I could be Terry McGinnis - human being. She's the only person I could relax around and not have to put on a show as Bruce Wayne's associate or make excuses for the necessary departures of my alter-ego.   
  
Listen to me going on and on about her... like she was perfect or something. She has plenty of character flaws like the rest of us. Opinionated, stubborn and I know the strong will she posesses sometimes made even Bruce throw up his hands and give in.  
  
Stop kidding yourself McGinnis. You know why.  
  
Yeah.... probably because ... she believed in me.   
  
Man, I miss being able to talk to her!  
  
Forget Max. I can always talk to Tim. He wants me to talk. Constantly bringing up the subject. Going out of his way to ask how I am and suggesting that talking about what happened would help me and how he knows what I'm going through and he wants to help if he can.   
  
Thing is... I don't want to talk about it. I just want to forget.   
  
***********************  
  
Though Terry continued to try denying the truths, the logic, the things he knew were occurring all around him, there were moments of time when his mind wandered away from his determined pursuit of WayneTech business into thoughts he preferred not to dwell on.  
  
Triggers that sent his mind down myraid paths were numerous and varied. Like remembering the snatch of a newscast he heard before pointedly tuning it out. News that reported on some criminal investigation dealing with names Batman was familiar with. Or a report on the crime wave that was hitting Gotham and was being blamed partially on the mysterious disappearance of Batman.   
  
There were the distant nagging thoughts that never entirely went away. The wondering about Tamara and her parents. And thoughts that led to the memory of Al Ghul who he had sworn to bring to justice and what effect the freak was having on the city. And there was no escape from thoughts of Max when every woman he dealt with on a daily basis compelled him to compare them with her. After years of working together it had gotten to where she sometimes knew what he was thinking before he did. She really had spoiled him.  
  
Physically feeling good, having healed completely and posessing an abundance of energy he had not experienced in years was also a trigger to pull his mind into unwanted places. Sitting at a desk or in endless meetings all day did not use up more than a fraction of the strength that bubbled beneath his skin, longing for release. Exercise helped. The regular grueling workouts he pursued sometimes even left him exhausted enough that he managed to sleep a whole night through.  
  
Another trigger was simply walking out into the night, feeling the cool air against his skin, hearing the familiar sounds of the city descending into its evening routine and remembering how it was to fly....  
  
All the inner turmoil and restlessness was having an, understandably, negative effect on him, which in turn had a similar effect on anyone he had to deal with.  
  
******  
  
Bruce did not need to hear the gossip to know that Terry's reputation at the office had changed. He witnessed it in occasional daily interactions between his young apprentice and the office personnel. Instead of being known as that gregarious, studious, respectful young executive of Mr Wayne's he is now regarded as WayneTech's most insensitive, bluntly spoken, no-nonsense-minded, pieces-of-work.  
  
In the last five weeks he had gone through personal secretaries like a chain smoker goes through cigarettes. The average candidate for McGinnis secretary lasted approximately two and one half days. Each had left the young man's office either crying or fuming . There had been one male secretarial candidate. He left running, a frightened expression on his face.  
  
Bruce had finally decided to take on the task of finding Terry a suitable candidate himself. 


	12. Chapter 12

Mary McGinnis was uncomfortable. She felt shoddily dressed in her best clothes. She felt inadequate in the proprietary manner necessary to attend this upscale restaurant that Terry had taken them to. She even felt a little ill. Flu was going around at work and she wondered if she was the next victim. To make matters worse was having to deal with her loved ones joining her at table. There was so much unease and tension among them that she wanted to make feeble excuses to Terry and rush from the place.  
  
She wouldn't do that, of course. The fact that her eldest child had offered -- insisted actually -- on treating them to this elegant meal was an unusually generous gesture of time on his part. If only everyone could put aside their differences for this short time together. The personality conflicts present here read like a soap opera script. There was Matt's indifference, bordering on hatred, towards his brother; Terry's guarded dislike for Tony, a man friend whose company she had enjoyed the last few months and amiable Tony's constant attempts to be cheery that were becoming annoying, even to her.  
  
Since Terry had returned from vacation, his visits home had become more frequent. Her pleasant surprise at the change gave gradually away to concern. There was something different about him that she could not quite name. A vulnerability that she had not sensed from him since his father had died.  
  
Granted, Terry's road to maturity had been a rough one, but he had come solidly into his own with Mr. Wayne's guidance. And he must be deeply involved in the company workings by the way he talked openly about his job now. Warren would have been proud of him taking on so much responsibility at such a young age.  
  
Now if only Matthew could appreciate where his brother was at and show a little less resentment. She couldn't say exactly when it had started. Matt used to love attention from his big brother and Terry seemed to enjoy giving it, along with being the father figure Matt needed. But the demands of Terry's job had increased over the years and time spent with his family had decreased to the point where days passed without hearing a word from him.   
  
The vivid memory of Matty's twelfth birthday was when she realized the depth of her youngest's negative feelings towards his brother. As a gift, Terry had promised to take Matt to the coveted 'Hover Drag Races' using Bruce Wayne's connections to get tickets for the event that had been sold out two years in advance. Mary had never seen Matt so excited. For days he announced to anyone who would listen about where he was going and bragged what a bigshot his brother was to be able to get those tickets.  
  
The special day came and Matt waited, eager and impatient, at the appointed time for Terry to pick him up. Over two hours later Terry finally called. Mary did not need to hear the conversation to know what Terry was saying. Matt's expression of disappointment would have pricked at the heart of even the most emotionally jaded person. She had felt tears in her eyes and quickly wiped them away.  
  
Looking dazed, Matt set the phone aside. She prompted softly.  
  
"Matty?"  
  
"Um.... he can't make it. Some kind of emergency at work. Mr. Wayne needs him there."  
  
"Oh honey. I'm sorry."  
  
"It's okay." Young shoulders lifted and fell. "He said he'd make it up to me, but you know what? I don't believe him anymore." Hurt and bitterness crept into his voice. "He doesn't care about us Mom. I think he'd be happier if we didn't exist."  
  
"That's not true Matt. It's just his job is so demanding and Mr. Wayne expects him to do his best. And... "  
Mary had hesitated, not wanting to speak the truth outloud because it was admitting her inadequacy as a parent. "... we've certainly benefited financially from his job. We couldn't afford to live this nicely on just the income I'm bringing in."  
  
"Whatever." Matt shrugged again. "I can't wait till I'm old enough to get a real job. Then we wouldn't need him at all anymore."  
  
She remembered, a few days later, being witness to Terry's profuse and sincere apology to his brother and Matt's insincere nod of forgiveness and grudging acceptence of Terry's offer to take him -- right now -- for a hang-gliding lesson. When they returned that evening, Matt's face was flushed with wonder and excitement as he told her about the experience. Terry seemed content as he sat and listened. When he suggested to Matt they could do it again soon, his little brother's reply left him visibly stunned. Matt had simply spoken the truth of his feelings.  
  
"No thanks. I know how busy you are and all. I don't want you to say things you don't really mean."  
  
He didn't give Terry a chance to respond as he bid them both a quick goodnight and disappeared into his room.   
  
Mary eyed her eldest sitting in comtemplative silence. He looked tired. Then again -- he always looked tired when she saw him. She had been about to ask him if he was all right when the buzz of his phone snapped him to alertness. It was a magical sight as the droop of fatigue gave way to muscles going taut with coiled strength.   
  
She watched Terry's brow furrow and listened to his deep voice question the caller.  
  
"You sure?" A pause then... "That doesn't follow the-- " Another pause and nod... "Okay. I'll be there."  
  
With an almost indiscernable motion he slipped the phone beneath his jacket and returned attention to her.  
Mary showed him her most serene, understanding, motherly smile. He responded by relaxing a notch from the tension he had built up. They had the routine down now. She wouldn't ask questions and he wouldn't have to make excuses.   
  
She had stopped questioning when her mind finally concluded that her son was more than businessman Bruce Wayne's executive assistant. Because she couldn't think of a better answer she began assuming that perhaps Mr. Wayne was the head of some undercover government agency and over the years had been secretly grooming her son for a role in the organization. A wild, crazy guess maybe, but half believing it helped her to half believe her son was properly trained for whatever it was that made him work those insane hours; display such constant, evident fatigue; show frequent signs of injury he obviously couldn't hide and act with such a subtle powerful self-confidance that it made Mary burst with pride at sensing the man her son had become.  
  
No matter what he was doing in reality, Mary knew she could not change it.  
  
But lately, something had changed him. She caught herself staring as the waitress placed a drink before him, the third since they had been seated twenty minutes ago. When had she ever seen him down one drink, much less three, in such a short time? Noting her questioning look, Terry stopped at mid-swig, averted his gaze to the glass held in his hand and slowly set it down on the table. His fingers remained in contact with the damp container while his blue eyes flicked up to meet her green ones. Before he lowered them she thought she saw clear signs of guilt registered there. Matt's bored voice broke the moment.  
  
"This is majorly unschway Mom. Sitting around forever waiting for food that'll probably taste like nothing. And everyone is so stuffed-shirt in this place. I'm hoping they'll all blow it out their ears at the same time." He laughed as his imagination provided entertainment. "Heh, be so schway to see people walking around with their brains blowing out through the holes in their heads."  
  
Mary covered her mouth as the grotesque picture of Matt's words triggered a rise of nausea.   
  
"Really Matt." Tony admonished, his forced good-nature finally leaving him. "Was that necessary? You've upset your mother."  
  
"Way to go twip." Terry seconded his disgust. "Aren't you ever going to grow up?"  
  
Matt rounded fiercely on his brother. "Just shut up! At least I never did all the stupid stuff you did when you were my age!"  
  
"Boys, please." Mary begged. "Could we try to be civil to each other?"  
  
"You look pale Mary. Are you feeling all right?"  
  
"I'm fine." She felt awful. It was taking a great effort to maintain a semblance of wellness. This flu bug seemed to be hitting her like a ton of bricks all of a sudden. "It's been a tiring day and I just don't have the energy to deal with this uncharitable attitude between my sons." Her voice snapped with irritation and she sent a sharp disapproving glare to each of them.   
  
A high pitched clatter of clashing glass and dinnerware intruded on the hushed atmosphere of the dining room. Startled gasps and sharp murmured words drew everyone's attention to a fallen waitress. The trays she had been carrying were lying scattered around her. Other waitstaff hurried to her side where she moaned softly, her hands groping weakly over the mound of her pregnant belly.  
  
Another squeal of fright impinged on the already tense room. An elderly woman at a nearby table was leaning worridly over her heavy-set husband who was slumped across his dinner. Terry darted from his chair to help, gently lowering the unconscious man to the floor while the distraught wife babbled helplessly.  
  
Through increasingly bleary eyes, Mary watched her son begin first aid procedures. A piercing shout from further across the room diverted her attention again.   
  
"Someone help! I think he's choking!"  
  
Her body feeling unnaturally sluggish, Mary turned in her seat and squinted to focus on a frail-looking young man in a wheelchair, his mouth open and gasping soundlessly for air. A middle-aged man and woman from another table rushed over to lift the suffering man and perform the standard manuever to dislodge airway obstructions.  
  
Further sounds of distress began to fill the, previously sedate, dining room. Feeling confused and faint, Mary clung weakly to her chair wondering if she was having a waking nightmare. The muted buzz of Tony's voice sounded beside her, but darkening vision kept her from seeing him. The last of her strength left and she felt herself falling. The sound of Matt calling out in alarm was the last thing she heard before consciousness faded.  
*********************** 


	13. Chapter 13

The steep, sweeping steps leading into Gotham City Hall were no hindrance to Terry McGinnis as he climbed them two and three at a time without even a catch in his breathing. Nor did he slow his pace while blazing a path through the long, crowded halls to the main city council room. Security at the entrance doors stopped him long enough to study his identification and allowed him to proceed in.   
  
The huge, shiny conference table was the centerpiece of the simply decorated room. Persons of all different sizes and shapes were staggered around, either sitting beside it or standing in huddled private discussion with each other. Terry sighted Bruce in a far-off corner, head cocked in a listening pose as Barbara Gordon talked beside him.   
  
They both looked up as he approached. Barbara acknowledged him with her usual nod and said, a measure of sympathy in her tone.  
  
"I'm sorry to hear about your mother. How is she?"  
  
"The doctors say she'll be fine. I guess it was the flu plus whatever it is that's hitting Gotham. The combination was too much for her to handle."  
  
"Sounds like she was one of the lucky ones. I think the mortality rate of this phenomenon will end up being more than any of us imagined by the time it's all over."   
  
"Yeah." Terry muttered, looking down at his feet.   
  
Barbara got the distinct feeling he was blaming himself for what was happening in the city. Obviously he still had not come to terms with his separation from Batman, who was supposed to be able to save everybody.   
  
Bruce was certain the inexplicable pull of the cowl would bring him back to it, but she was not so sure. It wasn't just Al Ghul's torture session that had knocked the young man off his righteous path of crime fighting. That would have been too simple. No, it went deeper. Most likely the same problem she had sensed from him before all this happened.   
  
A flicker of movement near the entrance yanked her from her reverie. Mayor Jake Reads had finally decided to make his appearance. The small, energetic man paused to acknowledge the people he met on the way to his position at the table. His gregarious front covered a no-nonsense approach that sometimes rubbed his constituents the wrong way. Barbara had butted heads with him a few times in the past, but she could not fault the loyalty and good intention he brought to his office.   
  
Before moving to her place at the table, she had a question that needed asking. "You were there Terry. Right in the middle of -- whatever it was. You've been trained by the best to be an objective observer. Can you tell me anything that happened then that hasn't been reported before?"  
  
Terry shook his head. "Sorry Commish. From all I've heard, what happened to me was similar to what everyone else felt. A general feeling of weakness, like when you're really tired. It seemed to get worse after awhile, then suddenly I didn't feel it anymore. But by then all the damage was done. I know the guy I was helping didn't make it."  
  
"Okay." Barbara gave a solemn nod. "If anything else comes to mind let me know."  
  
"Sure."  
  
"Looks like the meeting's ready to begin." She took a deep breath and moved to her seat.   
  
Terry lifted the briefcase he was carrying, towards Bruce. "You want the information now?"  
  
"It may not be needed. Wait until I ask for it."  
  
Terry nodded and followed Bruce to a different section, stepping back to lean against the wall as his mentor seated himself. Gradually order was brought to the room, every seat at the table filled, with numerous extras like Terry, posed against the wall.   
  
An expectant quiet filled the room for a moment before Mayor Reads cleared his throat and began.  
  
"This meeting has been called to address the alarming problems plaguing Gotham and to declare a possible emergency status. Each of you will have a chance to voice your gathered information and opinions regarding this situation. Let's start with you Ryan."  
  
Head of Sanitation/Grounds, Ryan Trash, straightened in his chair. The seriousness of the moment kept him from repeating his lame, trademark joke about not getting into the business because of his name. "What I have to say won't sound like much compared to what's going on, but I think it's significant. One of the earlier places where the trouble started was at City Park. There's this tree there--really old--rooted long before Gotham started surrounding it." Seeing the wry looks of amusement around the table made him hesitate to continue.  
  
"I know it." Bruce's deep gravelly voice entered the pause Ryan had left. "A blue spruce, almost eighty feet high. The park was originally established there as a measure to protect it."  
  
"That's right. And last year when the arborists checked it they claimed it was in great shape, probably good to grow for another fifty years maybe. Now--all of a sudden it's dying. And they don't know why. And it's not just that tree. A lot of others are showing signs of stress--dropping buds early and looking sick when they do leaf out. All the plantlife in that area is in rough shape and no one knows why."  
  
A short silence ensued while they waited for Ryan to say more. Bruce again prompted the usually quiet man before the mayor could move on to the next member.  
  
"Something else you'd like to add?"  
  
"Animals." Ryan blurted out as if embarrassed. "Dogs, squirrels, birds--they don't like going into that area. I've been swamped with calls from pet owners who want to know what's going on. That used to be the favorite place for them to walk and now their dogs put up such a fuss, they don't go anymore."  
  
Barbara entered the dialogue. "We've been getting the same kind of complaints in those areas. With people, one could say it was a simple case of superstition. But animals aren't influenced by something like that. Their reactions happen on an instinctive level, so whatever they're sensing is real."  
  
"There is definitely something going on with the animals." Doris Lateef, representative from the city council and veterinarian by trade, spoke up strongly. Though big-boned and muscular looking, her voice reflected gentleness. "Our clinic has seen a major upswing of cases. Owners bring their pets in because they don't understand the reason for their strange behavior. So far, we have found nothing physically wrong that would make them act in such manner. But older and already ill animals that were caught in an affected area have shown signs of extreme stress, with many of them succumbing to it."  
  
Dr. David McFee, the soft-spoken senior city medical examiner, was quick to agree, "It's the same with the human aspect. The elderly and persons already stressed by previous illness, whether chronic or otherwise have been most affected by this phenomenon. And sadly, just as Doris has described, the casualties are increasing the longer this goes on."   
  
"It's not just illness causing casualties." Jack Shah, commissioner of the Gotham Fire Department added solemnly. "Accidents have increased tenfold in those--areas--that have been hit. Most people claim they don't know what happened. All of them say they started feeling a strange sort of weakness--so bad that they couldn't keep doing whatever it was they were doing. We've had drivers lose control of their vehicles because they didn't have the strength to steer, which in turn caused multiple crashes. Numerous pedestrians have collapsed, some as they were crossing the street. Vendor carts have caught fire because the owners pass out and there's no one to keep the food from burning. I could go on and on, but we're probably all aware of what's going on out there." The gruff edge to the retirement age veteran's voice mixed resignation with subdued anxiety. Dealing with the unexplainable made him uncomfortable.  
  
"And those same things, which are not public knowledge, are happening elsewhere." The doctor interjected. "Gotham General was one hospital caught in the phenom. During that time surgeries were being performed and as you might surmise, they did not finish well. Surgeons and nurses, in good health mind you, were overcome by weakness and found it difficult to do their jobs properly. If we only knew when and where this--phenomenon--would hit, we could work around it."  
  
"First we need to learn what it is." Bruce stated to the suddenly quiet group. "Once again Mayor Reads, I want you to know that the facilities of WayneTech are completely at your disposal to help solve this mystery."  
  
"Thank you Mr. Wayne." Reads allowed a gracious nod in Bruce's direction then looked to the medical examiner. "What steps have been taken so far David, to discover the source of the problem."  
  
"We've been testing the air, water, soil and victim's blood samples for anything--a pathogen, bacteria, etceteras--that could cause these symptoms. So far there has been nothing unusual in any of our findings to steer us into an even probable theory."  
  
"At this point do we need to go outside the resources of the city to find answers?"  
  
"We still have a number of options to explore, but I would say if we can't find anything in a day or so that that would be definitely called for."  
  
"All right. Barbara would--"  
  
"I'd like to inject some information, if I may?" Troy Damul, council representative and devoted follower of the former mayor whose term was noted for his outspoken dislike for Batman, raised a pudgy hand. Reads nodded an affirmative.  
  
"I think the fact that this all started around the time of Batman's disappearance is significant. Is it a possibility that he's involved?"  
  
"I don't understand the connection." Reads said. "I've always considered Batman one of the good guys."  
  
"I'm sure there are a large number of citizens who would debate that issue with you sir. His motives haven't always been clearly defined."  
  
Barbara kept the smirk from her face with an effort. She kept an even tighter hold on her mouth. Damul was always looking for a fight. And with Batman as subject matter he usually got one from somewhere. Shifting her gaze subtly, she noted that neither Bruce or Terry showed signs of upset.   
  
Reads countered patiently, "Perhaps you'll clarify his motives in this matter then?"  
  
Damul leaned his bulky form forward, eager to express his thoughts. "If he's as human as anyone else then isn't it possible he could succumb to the seduction of power and wealth? Isn't it possible he could have gone in league with some criminal element, that is so prevalent in this city, to gain control of it?"  
  
Surprisingly, a loud amused scoff erupted from Trash. "You oughta be writing fiction novels Troy. You've got a wild imagination. Batman's done nothing but good around here and I, for one, am sorry he's gone."  
  
"You're entitled to your opinion, but--"  
  
"I'm sorry Mr. Damul. Unless you have some solid evidence to support your theory, it won't be discussed any further here."  
  
"But--"  
  
"Barbara--" Reads turned his head towards the police commissioner. "How is the department coping with this situation?"  
  
The meeting ended almost an hour later, after which Mayor Reads held a media conference and relayed his assurance that he was well aware of the situation occurring in Gotham and saw no cause for alarm at this point. He was firm in declaring that they were taking positive steps to find the source of the problem and had no doubt they would succeed in eliminating it.  
  
*****  
  
The car was quiet as Terry chauffeured Bruce back to the mansion. Terry broke the silence while turning onto the winding drive that led home by saying simply, "This isn't an organic problem."   
  
Bruce subdued a small thrill. Not once since his abduction had Terry expressed any sign that he was contemplating the situation plaguing Gotham. Not once had he stepped foot in the cave and in fact avoided the library as if it didn't even exist. Was this a sign that Terry was ready to emerge from the cocoon he had wrapped himself in?   
  
Bruce sincerely hoped so. There was no doubt in his mind that Gotham needed Batman as much as Terry needed to be Batman. There was no telling inflection when he answered, "Depends on what you mean by organic."  
  
"The bouts of weakness--they don't have a medical origin."  
  
"Not any that Tim and I have been able to find. We do have a couple of other theories though. If you're interested I--"  
  
"No." Terry cut him off quickly. "I'm not."  
  
Bruce turned his head to watch the passing scenery and to keep his small grin hidden from Terry. No matter how long it took for the next one to come, this little step indicated that Batman was finding his way back.  
  
***********************  
  
Amurst was irresistible on a beautiful spring day and many of its citizens had pushed aside routine to bask in the glory of it. Maxine Gibson and Travis Whitfield, two among those many, are out on a Tuesday afternoon picnic. If anyone happened to study the couple they could easily notice that the male half was struggling with cheerful diligence to raise the spirits of the female portion.  
  
Max laughed and bantered in all the right places to Travis' antics, not wanting to spoil the wonderful day, but she knew he was not fooled. She had grown to care a lot for Travis over the last months, but homesickness and unfinished business with another man she cared about, kept her from enjoying his company fully.   
  
A day rarely passed without her thinking of Terry's situation. She had spent a good chunk of her free time researching Al Guhl. The information left her sleepless some nights thinking about how that madman was still alive after all those years and loose at this very moment in Gotham creating trouble. Bruce had no doubts that the problems Gotham was experiencing were caused by Al Guhl.   
  
She wondered often how two minds could exist in a single body and what a lurid thought that was. She kept picturing a body with two heads -- father and daughter -- forever inseparable. Max shuddered. No wonder Terry was freaked out after what he'd been through.   
  
It had been over a week ago that she had called Bruce to see how things were back 'home'. A monthly routine she had developed since coming to Amurst to ease her conscience and make her life more bearable. Bruce had never given any indication that he minded the intrusion and in fact usually imparted more information to her than she would have dared asked for. This last communication was heavily laden with talk of the mysterious sickness that had hit Gotham and his concern for Terry's unbusiness-like behaviour, which concluded with him stunning her with the asking of a favor.  
  
The smile faded from Travis' rugged face as he saw the faraway look come back into Max's eyes. "Okay," he sighed heavily. "I'll give up this round. Score another one for him."  
  
A flush deepened the tone across Max's sienna colored cheeks, along with a guilty expression. "Would you not say that please. I've just been a little homesick lately. My mood has nothing to do with a 'him'."  
  
"So my feeling of jealousy is totally unfounded?" Travis had a knowing grin quirking the corner of his mouth.  
  
"Yes. Absolutely. Terry was never more than a friend. A good friend, but just a friend."  
  
Travis nodded sagely. "You're going to hate me for asking this, but-- what are we Max? Just friends? Good friends? Or what I'm hoping you'll say-- more than friends?"  
  
"Travis," there was warning in her voice.   
  
Travis threw up his hands in mock defense and smiled. "Forgive the whining of a desperate man sweetheart. It's just that these last few months with you have been incredible. I don't want what we have together to end, but I feel like it's beginning to. You're slipping away from me Maxine. I don't like it, but I can live with it if there's no other choice. That's what I need you to tell me. If there's anything I can do to keep us together tell me what it is."  
  
Max shook her head. "I wish you wouldn't talk like that."  
  
"I didn't want to say it but... I can't help feeling for the last while that you're not telling me something."  
  
She looked away and ran a hand unnecessarily through her glossy, tinted locks. "My old boss has asked me to help him with a project, back in Gotham." Large eyes met his waiting gaze. "I said I would do it."   
  
Travis' eyes widened. "So I wasn't even in the game anymore," he replied ruefully, trying to soften the hint of bitterness with a grin. "Or maybe I never was in it in the first place."  
  
"Would you stop that please." Max grinned, reaching over to cup his face with both hands. "This has nothing to do with us. He needs my help and I... I'm just... a little homesick. I miss Gotham. Amurst is a great place, but... it's not Gotham. It's too quiet, the people are too nice, the air is too clean and the atmosphere is too happily-- mundane."  
  
Travis' expression shifted into comical dorkiness, voice taking on an exaggerated twang. "Golly gee Miz Gibson. We shore do feel honored when you city folk come round and visit our little town. You make us feel all humble inside."  
  
Max laughed at his country bumpkin imitation and slapped at his shoulder to make him stop. He laughed with her, relieved to hear it was genuine. From the first day he met her he had sensed a depth to this woman that could not be hidden behind her cool, poised exterior. Constant, careful attention on his part had revealed a small portion of it that had only made him eager to expose and be the recipient of even more of her mysterious personality.   
  
"It's not a permanent position Travis. A mere six weeks and I'll be back here before you even have a chance to miss me."  
  
"Promise?" He leaned close enough to kiss, his soft voice resonating with warmth.  
  
"Promise." She murmured and closed the distance between their lips.  
  
************************************* 


	14. Chapter 14

HOWARD'S PLACE - Fine Spirits and Specialty Sandwiches  
  
Terry's former high school friend, Howard Groote, had experimented with a number of career choices in the   
  
years since graduation. First it was a stint as an actor in local and regional theater. His parents got tired of  
  
bankrolling him and gave him an ultimatum: he must either return to school, take a job in his father's  
  
business or go out on his own and survive without any support from the parents.   
  
Howard opted for a two year certificate at a culinary arts school. After graduation he found employment at  
  
one of Gotham's more elegant restaurants. Though his employers were pleased with his work, Howard  
  
grew restless after a year. With a monetary investment from his parents he bought a local bar and for the  
  
last half of the past year had been breaking even on the profit end of it.   
  
He had created an accidental niche one day when a patron had asked him to make him a sandwich. So  
  
satisfied by the taste treat the patron had spread the word and 'Howard's Place' had become a popular  
  
stop-off for many hungry customers. He worked hard, long hours to find that success and his enthusiasum  
  
had grown. A long list of improvements for the business were already mapped out in his mind for the next  
  
ten years.  
  
Interactions with his patrons fulfilled a long standing desire for acceptance. A small number of his old high  
  
school friends stopped in occasionally. Always glad to see them he made time to visit each of them and  
  
make them feel welcome, even during the bar's busiest times.  
  
Terry had stopped in with Maxine twice in the past year. The first time at Howard's personal invitation for  
  
the bar's grand opening. The second time they stopped for no special reason except to say hello. The third  
  
time Terry was on his own. When Howard asked about Max, Terry had replied off-handed that she had  
  
made a career move to another state and let the subject drop even though Howard had wanted to know  
  
more.  
  
Terry came often now. Two or three times a week. He had made it clear to Howard that he needed  
  
privacy, to keep a low profile from an inquisitive public. His association with the famous Bruce Wayne had  
  
put him into automatic celebrity status and the media were relentless in keeping tabs on him. He always  
  
took a table in a far-off corner of the bar and usually spent the time poring over work related material and...  
  
drinking.   
  
Howard had seen and talked to Terry more in the past few weeks than he had ever done in high school or  
  
since and he had come to the conclusion that his friend was going through troubled times. He was not the  
  
same Terry he had known before. He certainly had never considered the man a drinker though he was aware  
  
of the, somewhat, dark past of Terry's early teen years.   
  
Howard had learned from past experience that the most he could do for those he cared about was to be  
  
available if they needed help and to listen if they wanted someone to talk too. Isn't that why people came to  
  
bars? If they wanted to just drink they could do it alone at home. They came here because they wanted the  
  
company. They didn't want to be alone.  
  
So, sensing that Terry fit the category, Howard kept his banter light-hearted and at a respectful distance so  
  
as not to intrude, yet giving enough signs that he cared. At the moment he was pushing the distance part for  
  
the sake of getting a burning bit of trivia answered to his satisfaction. He was leaning over the opposite side  
  
of the small table, an enthusiastic grin plastered on his pleasant, homely face, saying.  
  
"Justine Carraro's so famous and you're kind of in her league you know-- always getting your picture taken  
  
with someone like that-- and the way it seemed like she was hanging on you.... "  
  
"We are not dating Howard. It was just a promotional thing." Terry repeated, looking at his old high  
  
school friend in exasperation. "Who you gonna believe? Me or some stupid gossip vid?"  
  
"Well." Howard frowned thoughtfully. "I know who I'd rather believe."  
  
"Howie." Terry drawled warningly.  
  
"Okay, okay. Just tell me one thing though."  
  
Terry's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What."  
  
"Is that really a wig that she wears? I mean it looks so natural --"  
  
"Go!"  
  
Howard sputtered and backed away at Terry's growled command. "It's just that when I saw you and her  
  
together in that vid I figured you'd be able to --"  
  
Terry groaned, bowing his head beneath his arms. Howard grimaced, realizing he was intruding on the  
  
friendship more than he should.  
  
  
  
"Aw... geez... I'm sorry Terry. I promise I won't ask anything like that again."  
  
Raising an irritated face to Howard, Terry's tone was unpleasant. "Howie. The reason I come here is to get  
  
away from all that media crap. If you ever let on to anyone that I do come here our friendship will be sorely  
  
threatened."  
  
  
  
Howard looked affronted by Terry's words. He straightened to his full five-foot-four height, puffing up his  
  
chest to make it more prominent than his stomach and gazed at Terry in all seriousness.  
  
"You know I would never do that Terry. You've been coming here off and on since I opened the place.   
  
Have I ever given you a reason to believe that I don't value your friendship, patronage or trust?"  
  
After a long moment of studying his friend Terry answered. "No."  
  
"Well thank you for that." Howard replied solemn. A heavy pause came between them before Howard  
  
nodded. "I've got customers to serve. Is there anything else you need here?"  
  
A negative shake of Terry's head and Howard turned to leave. Two steps away and he heard the young  
  
exec speak out grudgingly.  
  
"It's fake. Her real hair color is a mousy brown."  
  
Howard pivoted to flash Terry a wide smile then moved away with a skip in his short stride.   
  
  
  
Terry grinned and went back to the mundane task set before him. Tasks that would take up his entire  
  
evening- again- for the forth day in a row. A boring job that his secretary would do if he had one. It was  
  
his own fault. He should have been more patient with all the candidates that the agency had sent over.   
  
Unfortunately, he no longer had any patience. Or what he did have he saved for the more influential people  
  
in the company. The ones who were judging his performance and considering his worthiness as Wayne's  
  
possible successor.  
  
That thought made him squirm as it always did. Why did he persist in thinking he had to prove himself to  
  
anybody for anything? It was his life! He was his own man! The urge to chuck it all rose up sharp inside  
  
him. To leave behind everything that meant anything to him in Gotham. To be free of guilt and  
  
responsibility and that damned sense of 'doing the right thing'!  
  
With an effort he took a deep breath, letting the reality of commonsense calm him. That urge was simple  
  
emotion - easy to ignore or put aside. As sure as he knew he needed air to breathe, he knew he needed a  
  
purpose in life and to acknowledge the responsibilities that came his way.   
  
He had his vivid memories of 'juvie', the death of his father and most recent, the scare of his mother's  
  
illness to help him reaffirm his priorities. Seeing her lying unconscious on that restaurant floor, with a  
  
horrified Matt clinging desperately to her hand still made him shudder at what could have been. And if   
  
those memories were not enough to keep him focused on reality he had Bruce's huge example of  
  
accountability to compare himself too.  
  
He would not let the old man down this time. He had confidence in his untested business instincts. The  
  
process of becoming Batman had always overshadowed every other aspect of his life. With that distraction  
  
gone, buried talents were coming to the fore and he was pressing them into use with a rabid determination.   
  
  
  
Looking down at the column of data that needed filing, Terry realized he needed to stop letting the past  
  
affect his future. He had to let the anger go and develop civil relationships with the people around him -  
  
particularly the office personnel at WayneTech. Tomorrow was a good day to start with the new secretary  
  
that was scheduled to begin. With mixed feelings of hope and dread, he wrapped a hand around the half  
  
empty glass of amber colored alcohol setting on the table. Raising it to his mouth he muttered a silent toast  
  
to a successful working relationship with whoever the person might be and drank deeply of the bracing  
  
contents.  
  
***************************************************  
  
The intercom buzzed once. His receptionist's cultured voice came through with its usual professional  
  
charm.  
  
"Mr. McGinnis, your new assistant is here sir."  
  
"Female?"  
  
"Yes sir."  
  
"Send her in - please." Keep remembering your manners McGinnis. Terry made sure a pleasant expression  
  
was on his face. When the door opened he stood behind his desk, ready to greet the new person with all the  
  
cordiality he was capable of and vowed to continue to treat her with all due respect. If she ended up leaving  
  
it would not be because of anything he had done this time.  
  
She stepped into his office, her long legged form covered in an elegant pantsuit, compupad firmly clasped in  
  
one hand, head held high, a no-nonsense look composed on the darkly beautiful and achingly familiar face.  
  
Warmth flared inside Terry, a relieved joy that lifted the corners of his mouth and brightened the blue of his  
  
eyes. He murmured her name low, in surprise. "Max."  
  
Tenseness marked Maxine's features, her full lips pressed into a taunt line. She allowed herself to stare for a  
  
moment. He looked different. Healthy. Yes, that was the word. There was a vibrant energy radiating from  
  
him that had been missing the last time they had been together. And he sported a beard now. A black  
  
sculpted mass of hair, highlighted by subtle streaks of red that defined his chin and jawline. It made him  
  
look older, more -- dare she say -- intelligent. Faint scars, that she might not have noticed if she were not  
  
looking for them, dotted areas on his face. Maybe that was the reason for the beard, to hide them.   
  
Terry made a step to move around the desk to greet her, but stopped when he saw her stiffen, her expression  
  
anything but welcoming. Why was she here if....   
  
"You are the new secretary?" A grin of amusement lit his face.  
  
"That's right." Max nodded, shifting her pad to the other hand.  
  
"Aren't you a bit overqualified for a secretarial job?"  
  
"The title is 'first level technical assistant' Mr. McGinnis. I was told that this was a high-risk position and  
  
that the minor training I've recieved in psychological assessment would be quite useful here."  
  
"Is that so." What the hell kind of doubletalk was she spewing out? His good mood was fading fast. If this  
  
was a joke it was no longer amusing. He peered closer at the woman, making sure it was really his Max  
  
standing there.  
  
"That's correct. I mean no disrespect to you sir when I say your reputation as a 'difficult boss' is causing  
  
morale problems among the personnel within this office section. Mr. Wayne has hired me to -- "  
  
"Cut the crap Max. This isn't funny." She was talking to him like he was an idiot.  
  
"It wasn't meant to be." Maxine murmured with constraint and shivered inwardly at the unfriendly stare he  
  
had focused on her. She could not remember a time when he had ever looked at her with such vehemence.   
  
Silence hung heavy between them for the next minute.   
  
"I won't work with you like this Max, so you might as well leave." Terry's quiet words thudded with  
  
serious intent. "Now."  
  
"If you have a problem with me being here, take it up with your boss. Bruce Wayne. He hired me and only  
  
he can fire me."  
  
"So your being here is all his idea?"  
  
  
  
The smirky look on Terry's face made Max want to cross the space between them and give him a well  
  
placed kick. Her jaw clenched and she forced herself to relax, replying stiff, but calm.  
  
"Yes. It is. He talked me into it after a lot of convincing and pointing out the undeniable fact that I owe him  
  
for all the things he's done for me in the past."  
  
  
  
"Why you?"  
  
"Apparently, since I've been able to put up with your muley-headed ways in the past he thinks I can do it  
  
again."  
  
"I need a competent secretary not a nursemaid."  
  
"What you need is a change in attitude boyo!" Max snapped, resenting the implications of his arrogantly  
  
spoken statement. As if the only thing she had done as Batman's backup was provide first aid every time he  
  
came home after getting his butt kicked from not being attentive enough. "Bruce is concerned about the  
  
situation you've developed here."  
  
"What situation?"  
  
"You're alienating your co-workers with what I'm told is a nit-picky, self-absorbed attitude."  
  
  
  
"Bull -- "   
  
  
  
"Headed. Yes, I suppose in your case that fits better than muley-headed."  
  
  
  
"I don't have to stand here and listen --"  
  
  
  
"You'd better listen Mr. McGinnis, because I've been told by the man, that if I can't help you shape up you  
  
are going to be shipped out. If I haven't made myself clear enough then you had better go have a serious  
  
listen with him!"  
  
  
  
Terry stared at the angry woman, stunned by her words. "He actually said that?"  
  
  
  
"Strongly implied it." Max corrected, her stance easing at his tense quiet. She watched his face, not  
  
surprised to see it turn into a familiar unreadable expression. Gradually he sank down into his chair and  
  
began to rub a distracted hand across his bearded chin.   
  
  
  
Max felt her stomach clench as the old reflexive empathy kicked into gear. She forced herself to subdue its  
  
intensity, but being physically in his presence again brought home to her how much she had missed him. He  
  
could not know how much she had wanted to greet him as the friends they once were. She knew how her  
  
words had impacted him. How knowing that Bruce was behind her being here was a sign that he was failing  
  
at his efforts as Wayne's associate. But he must know it wasn't too late. Just a few adjustments on how he  
  
was handling the staff under his control would mean success. That's what Bruce wanted him to learn--  
  
that's why she was here now. Bruce felt she could get through to him when no one else could. Maybe now  
  
was the time to shift to a different tact. Her voice softened with understanding.  
  
  
  
"Terry I--"  
  
  
  
His head came up sharply, the cold glint in his blue eyes flashing at her, "You can address me as McGinnis  
  
or sir, Miss Gibson. If you're ready to begin there's a backlog of items on my agenda that I hope you can  
  
help me catch up on."  
  
  
  
For the second time in the last few minutes, Max felt like she was in the presence of a stranger. She held  
  
Terry's frosty gaze for a moment before looking away in discomfort. Indecision muddled her next thoughts.   
  
Did she really want to put herself through this? Terry had changed more than she had imagined. She had to  
  
admit that Bruce, turning to her for help was a last resort step for the old man. If he did not know how to  
  
handle Terry why would he think she could do any better?   
  
  
  
"Miss Gibson?"  
  
  
  
Max raised questioning, wary eyes towards his unchanged demeanor.   
  
  
  
"You staying or leaving?"   
  
  
  
The challenge she heard in his monotone voice helped her decide. With a subtle lift of her chin she replied in  
  
a tone as cold as his eyes, "I'm not going anywhere."   
  
  
  
She noted the almost imperceptible slump of his shoulders and wondered at the reason for it. Was it a sign  
  
of relief or regret at her decision? The days that followed gave her more of an answer than she had ever  
  
expected. 


	15. Chapter 15

*************************************************  
  
Tim, with his young daughter Kara and her friend Ashley in tow, goes up to Terry's office and wrangles the young man into joining them for a quickie picnic in the park. It wasn't the first time he had tried to pull Terry into a different environment in hopes of getting him to 'spill his guts'. He'd had little success. Terry had made it clear he didn't want to talk about the experience, but Tim refused to cease in his efforts. He knew what Terry was dealing with inside and he knew his continued attempts were, at the least, a solid sign to Terry that he was always available support whenever Terry felt he needed it.   
  
He rebuts Terry's first expected refusal by proclaiming that his beautiful wife, Grace, had made a special effort to pack enough for all of them and would be disappointed if leftovers were brought home. He pretends he doesn't see the look on Terry's face signaling the second refusal and doggedly adds with a chuckle,  
  
"And I promise I won't turn this into a therapy session. It's just a chance to get out, enjoy the great weather and visit a little. What do you say Terry? We won't hold you for more than an hour."  
  
Terry shook his head, long-suffering smile on his face, "I appreciate the invitation Tim, but--"  
  
Tiny hands suddenly grasped one of his larger and tugged insistently. He gazed down at four-year old Kara's pixie features as she pleaded. "Oh please Terry. Dad said he won't let us play very long at the park if he doesn't have someone to talk to. And me and Ashley never get a chance to do stuff together. And she can only visit once a month. Right Ashley?"  
  
The other little girl skipped forward to grab his other hand, head bobbing enthusiastically. "Please come with us? We wanna play."  
  
Terry gave Tim a wry look, "Why do I get the feeling I'm being set up?"  
  
"Ummm..." Tim smiled innocently. "Maybe because you are?"  
  
Kara was tugging again, her child-pitched voice eager with anticipation. "It'll be fun Terry. Just wait and see."  
  
After a reluctant moment, he agreed. "Okay. But only for an hour. There's some important work I have to get finished today."   
  
The girls jumped up and down and squealed their delight, while Tim slapped him on the shoulder.  
  
"We knew you wouldn't let us down. Come on little ladies." He began ushering Kara and Ashley to the door. "We're off to the park."  
  
The door opened before they reached it and Max walked in. She stopped in sudden surprise, a welcoming smile lighting her face.   
  
"Well look who's here." She bent over to embrace Kara who bounced forward to meet her.  
  
"Maxy! You can come with us too. It'll be so much fun!"  
  
"Well, you know I like to have fun. Where are you going?"  
  
"To the park. And Terry's gonna come along."  
  
"Oh?" Max straightened and sent a neutral glance at the man. So much for having fun, she thought to herself.   
  
"Join us Max." Tim hurridly seconded his daughter's invitation. He felt the sudden tension in the room. Heavy enough to collapse the floor beneath their feet and land them all at basement level. Bruce hadn't been overstating his casual remark during a recent conversation about the silent war between these two since Max had returned. Maybe this was an opportunity to play peacemaker. "Grace packed a boatload of food for a picnic and the more, the merrier."   
  
"I'm afraid I'll have to pass this time gang. There's this project Mr. McGinnis needs finished by the end of the day and I'll have to work through my lunchbreak to get it done."  
  
There was a hint of scolding in Terry's low voice. "Considering this unforseen circumstance, the project can be put on hold for awhile Ms. Gibson."  
  
"I appreciate the consideration sir." The crisp distaste in her tone indicated otherwise. "But I'd like to get it done and not have it hanging over my head all weekend."  
  
Their eyes met and held for a count of seconds, like combatants, each waiting for the other to drop their gaze first. Neither won, the silent conflict ending simultaneously, as Tim broke the tension in the room by proclaiming cheerfully,  
  
"All right then. We'll have to do this another time when you can join us Max. Girls... Terry..." He urged Terry along past Max who had stepped aside from the door. " Let's get moving before all the benches get taken. I'm getting too old to sit on the ground. Catch you later Max."  
  
"Bye Maxy!" Kara waved.  
  
"Have fun." Max smiled and returned the wave. As the group exited the office she noted the men casting quick glances in her direction. Tim with brows raised questioningly and Terry's blue eyes showing--regret?. She shrugged in irritation after the door closed. Her 'boss' would be the first to tell her that he had nothing to be sorry for.  
  
**  
  
The children's park was a newer one, built two years ago when Batman was in the prime of his, apparently, four-year existence. Downturn of crime in the area had triggered the moving in of responsible citizens which in turn stimulated local business. Parents had contacted these now more profitable business' and asked them for donations to develop the park. They used their own labor to construct the variety of equipment felt necessary for the children.  
  
Lunch eaten, the young girls were happily playing on the equipment contained within the busy park while Tim and Terry sat on a bench talking. Tim continued to cast a regular watchful gaze towards his daughter and her friend.  
  
A faint interruption intrudes on the rhythm of the park's peaceful aura. In the middle of a sentence Tim halts and looks up. The sudden alert stance of the older man causes Terry to tense and turn his attention outwards.  
  
There is an unusual shifting among the adults and children scattered around the area that had been relaxed only moments ago. Parents and caregivers move towards their children. The children's uneasiness grows to fear when they see it in the adults. They quickly join the adults at their beckoning. Soon it's evident what the cause of worry is --- a relaxed group of Jokerz striding into the area. Laughing, loud joking and teasing hits among each other.  
  
Terry and Tim rose similtaneously from the bench.   
  
"Jokerz." Tim stated tensely, eyes riveted on the two little girls under his care. "I heard rumors they might be moving back into the area, but hoped it was just that."  
  
"They don't belong here." Terry growled at the sight of the approaching menace. He remembered spending many hours patrolling this particular area as Batman, making it safe for the average citizen. His gut churned in disgust at the personal affront. Disgust with the scum that liked to make a habit of causing trouble and disgust with himself for letting a moment like this happen. Whether he'd admit it to himself or not, he still saw the world through the eyes of Batman. And Batman had clearly shirked his duties of late--nevermind the reason for it.  
  
"Damn." Tim murmured, alarmed to realize the Jokerz will get to the two little girls first. Preoccupied playing in the sandbox at a far end of the park they were just beginning to sense something wrong. Setting off at a fast walk, Tim reasoned with himself that the Jokerz wouldn't be bold enough to cause trouble out in broad daylight with witnesses clearly in view. That was the logical train of thought which which was runover easily by the much bigger 'protective parent' train of thought. If those delinquents harmed even a hair on either child's head, there'd be hell to pay. The old crimefighting techniques were still in place and though the older body might have to suffer a little to carry them out he wouldn't hesitate to do it.  
  
"Kara!" he yells to let his daughter know he's coming and urge her to come to him. Ashley responds first and scrambles from the sandbox while Kara stares up at the approaching Jokerz, mesmerized by their colorfully painted faces and strange exaggerated movements.  
  
The five Jokerz casually surround the sandbox, their attentions focused on the little girl who stared in open-mouthed astonishment up at them. Tim freezes for a split second at the sight just as Terry rushs past him. So quickly does he move that the Jokerz are surprised when he shoves one of them aside and steps protectively in to shield Kara.  
  
He flashes a wry, hopeful grin around to each painted face.  
  
"I know you all have the mentality of five year olds, but physically I think you're a little too big to be playing here. The garbage dump is just a few blocks away. I bet you'll find lots of things to play with over there. At least you won't look out of place."  
  
Terry kept his gaze shifting to the crowd around them as he reached down to set Kara on her feet and edged her back to the opening he had made coming in. Blessedly predictable, the Jokerz responded to his taunt and gave him the time he needed to get Kara to the safety of her father's arms.  
  
"Did he just insult us?"  
  
"Yeah, yeah I think he did."  
  
The Jokerz began to close their circle. He heard Tim call out sharply to his daughter. She responded by dashing towards him, innate ability helping her dodge hostile hands that reached out to grab her. In moments Tim was hugging her tight in his arms.   
  
Relief flooded Terry. A big smile came to his face as the five delinquents completely surrounded him. He felt an almost forgotten rush of adrenaline stir inside and sensed his body shifting instinctively into combat readiness. A study of the made-up faces revealed none to be familiar. Probably a new gang or one that had kept a low profile when Batman had been a prominent threat in Gotham.   
  
"Did you insult us?"   
  
"Me?" Terry pointed at himself, then shook his head. "That would really be stupid. I mean-- you might actually understand what I'm saying and take offense. And then I'd really be in trouble. "  
  
"I think that was an insult too," commented a hefty-looking female sporting droopy black dog ears and a spotted face.   
  
"Oh, you guys are a lot smarter than I thought. I'll have to upgrade your mentality to the seven-year level. And believe me-- that's a compliment."  
  
"Hah. Hah." A wiry, medium height, green-cheeked Jokerz spoke the words without any humorous inflection. His gray eyes studied Terry intently. "You're a tough-guy aren't ya? Somehow those fancy clothes don't fit you very well."  
  
"They're tailor made. Bet you can't say the same about yours." Terry met the bold gaze easily while his mind reconsidered that this particular Jokerz might be at a higher status in the gang hierarchy. He grinned, his tone dropping an octave as he spoke a subtle challenge. "And I bet you wanna find out how tough me and my clothes are."  
  
It took him considerable self-control to keep from being the first to let a fist fly. To be able to let loose on this bunch of deserving clowns and rid himself of weeks of pent-up emotion was overwhelming. His muscles literally ached from the tension of holding back, but he was certain that his outward stance remained relaxed.   
  
Green-cheeks must have sensed Terry's desire to pound someone. He grinned and shook his head, about to speak when the wail of distant sirens began to fill the air. All five clowns looked skyward and glimpsed the police hovercraft approaching. A gesture from Green-cheeks had them begin retreat.   
  
"Maybe some other time tough-guy." Then he laughed loudly at sight of the grimace Terry couldn't stop.  
  
Fists clenched in frustrated anger, Terry took a step towards his retreating 'live punching bags'. A loud shout averted his single-minded determination.  
  
"Terry!"   
  
It was Tim. He hurried over, Kara still held securely in his arms, Ashley clinging to his pant leg. At sight of the thundercloud that suffused Terry's face, Tim stopped in his tracks. "Whoa." He shifted Kara to his other side and pushed Ashley behind him, putting distance between the angry young man and the girls. "Easy son. Maybe you should take a jog around the city. I'm sure you'll find something out there that could use a good beating. Like a tree or brick wall."  
  
Terry's chest slowly expanded and released as he found control over his emotion. "Yeah." Tim wondered if Terry realized his voice had dropped into deep bat mode. "Maybe I'll do that."  
  
Tim watched Terry walk away, his long, powerful strides carrying him quickly past the scattered clumps of concerned park goers and police. 


	16. Chapter 15 continued

*****************************************************  
  
Author's note: This part should have been included in the last chapter--kind of fits together.  
  
****Many thanks to you faithful reviewers! Your praise and comments keep me going and delivering the best writing I'm capable of producing. I hope I can live up to your expectations.   
  
Max's low growl was lost in the rumble of thunder that shook outside the office window. She was grateful  
  
for nature's timely intervention because she knew it would be totally unprofessional on her part to show  
  
displeasure at her boss in such a manner. She folded hands primly on her lap and listened calmly as he  
  
mouthed off a list of tedious, mundane tasks that he had planned for next week. There was little doubt in  
  
her mind that he stayed up half the night to think up this stuff just to annoy her. Three weeks of being the  
  
resident 'gofor' and 'dofor' and Max had reached the limit of her patience.   
  
She had hoped Tim's planned picnic getaway would have softened Terry attitude, at least for the remainder  
  
of the day. Unfortunately it had the opposite affect. Her boss had returned late to the office, mussed,  
  
sweaty and sullen. Annoyed by her subsequent attempts at communication he commented in so many  
  
muttered words that she was supposed to read his mind. When she contained her indignation and calmly  
  
told him that was not possible, he actually snarled and told her to be quiet.  
  
Max hated Terry with such a passion at this moment that she wanted to tear the beard off his arrogant face  
  
with her bare hands, so that when she slapped his cheek nothing would soften its effect.   
  
She hated how she was letting him get to her and she hated Bruce for putting her in this position.  
  
Thank God it was Friday. She would need the whole weekend to meditate and prepare for the endurance to  
  
survive the following week with him.   
  
  
  
The only positive thing was that the office personnel had begun to relax at the return of a more amiable  
  
Terry McGinnis, the reason being he had focused all his ill-temper on her. She kept reminding herself that  
  
she owed Bruce this favor. The old man had taught her invaluable lessons over the years she had worked  
  
with him and Terry as Batman. Skills that would set her above average in any job she would decide to  
  
pursue. And she repeated to herself the promise Bruce had made that she could leave after six weeks  
  
regardless of unresolved circumstances at that point.  
  
  
  
Max looked up at the sound of her name. He was beckoning to her again, saying her name with that  
  
condescending snicker in his voice when he realized she was not paying attention to him. As if catching her  
  
like that gave him some kind of bullyish satisfaction.   
  
  
  
If he expected to get a rise out of her he was sorely mistaken. He would get nothing from her except  
  
professional demeanor. That was the satisfaction she would maintain. But his next words to her almost  
  
made her gasp in dismay.  
  
  
  
"If you've made plans for the weekend you'll have to cancel them. Bruce wants me to go over the final  
  
details of the EarthWatch Convention and I'll require your assistance."  
  
  
  
"The entire weekend?" She managed an even tone.   
  
"'Fraid so." He slapped a thick packet of material on the desk in front of her. "Will that be a problem for  
  
you?" The lightning flashing behind him, outside the office window, gave his grim face an evil glint   
  
  
  
"No. Of course not." She showed him an easy smile, thunder once more timed to hide the angry rumble  
  
erupting from her throat. "Will that be all for today?"  
  
At his answering nod, she gathered up the packet, rose and strode gracefully from the room. Terry sighed  
  
deeply, plunking back into his chair as the door closed behind her. His thoughts groaned with self-disgust.  
  
Why does she keep putting up with me? How did Bruce get her to do this when it was obvious she loathed  
  
the sight of him. Not that he was giving her any reasons to change that attitude. He was being deliberately  
  
abrasive to her and had to admit it was just to get her to react and drop that distant, professional act she  
  
maintained. He wanted the old Max back. But then--maybe she wanted the old Terry back too. And that  
  
Terry was gone forever.   
  
He angled elbows onto the desktop and angrily massaged the contours of his forehead. The tantalizing   
  
image of a filled glass of alcohol came to mind. He fought the urge to indulge in the craving, knowing it  
  
held only temporary respite from the demons that were eating away at him.   
  
Max was being treated unfairly. He knew it. He was the cause of it. And he had to stop it. Just like now.   
  
Telling her he needed her assistance this weekend. It was a lie. He didn't need help with the convention  
  
details. He just wanted to be with her, never mind she didn't feel the same. Well, here was his chance to  
  
correct the mistake. There was still time to catch her before she left, apologize for his behaviour and tell her  
  
the weekend was hers.  
  
And maybe... maybe if she was in a forgiving mood, she would give him a chance to explain... everything.  
  
Jumping from his chair, Terry hurried from his office in time to see Max embracing a dark, broad-shouldered  
  
man in the reception area. He stopped in his tracks, watching and listening as her distinctive voice bubbled  
  
with a joy he hadn't heard in months. As she fawned all over the guy and the guy over her, Terry felt a  
  
sharp stab of unexpected jealousy. Obviously someone she knew and he snidely wondered how well. He  
  
subdued the emotion with a ruthlessness that would have made Bruce proud and resigned himself to  
  
approaching the couple.  
  
He waited in polite silence for a moment, then cleared his throat when neither noted his presence. Max  
  
whirled in surprise, an expectant look on her face.  
  
"Mr. McGinnis."   
  
The man beside her looked sharply at him, studying eyes showing momentary astonishment. Terry kept the  
  
usual unreadable look on his face and replied in his practiced businessman's tone.  
  
"Excuse me for intruding, but I wanted to catch you before you left. I just remembered a prior engagement  
  
I have this weekend, so we'll have to put off the convention details until Monday."  
  
"Oh - " Her dark eyes flashed suspicion. "All right, if you're sure."  
  
"Positive. The weekend is all yours." A slight grin accompanied his reply along with a blatant flick of his  
  
gaze towards the man towering behind her. Max reacted quickly to the cue.  
  
"Ah... " She stepped to one side, a hand on the man's arm. "Travis Whitfield -- " The hand moved to  
  
gesture in Terry's direction. "Terry McGinnis."  
  
Travis reached out a hand in hearty welcome, his booming velvet voice matching his brawny frame. "Max  
  
has mentioned that you're a good friend of hers. A pleasure to finally meet you."  
  
As Travis' large hand closed firmly around his own, Terry deduced that the man was no couch-potato.   
  
Good friend huh? Maybe she wasn't as angry with him as she let on. And maybe pigs could fly. Spliced  
  
with a bird maybe, but then it wouldn't really be a pig anymore either.   
  
"I'm afraid Max is much too professional to relay personal information to her boss, but from your accent I'd  
  
say you're not a native Gothamite. My guess is you're someone she knows from Amurst?"  
  
"Yep."  
  
"First time in Gotham?"  
  
"Yes and I can see why Max got bored in Amurst. This city kinda takes my breath away. Never a dull  
  
moment. Everywhere I look something is happening."  
  
Bored eh? Terry smiled and let out a soft chuckle. "As long as it's not happening to you, you'll enjoy  
  
Gotham."  
  
A long roll of thunder shook the walls of the building, trailing Terry's words like an ominous accent.  
  
  
  
__________________________________________________________________________________  
  
  
  
Al Guhl stepped outside the walls of his country estate located on the outskirts of Gotham city limits. The  
  
spring storm had passed and while he exalted in the violence that the storm had expelled and the chaos it  
  
caused, he was even more excited by the calm after it ended.   
  
  
  
For a short time he could relish the century-old memories of living in a time when pollution had not  
  
overwhelmed Earth's atmosphere. When every day he could walk a lush, plant filled environment with the  
  
air smelling as sweet and clean as it did this moment.   
  
  
  
Even his daughter would not begrudge him this time. She stayed silent in the mind they occupied together,  
  
content to share this brief, pleasant peace with him. Rare moments for them, but ones that would come  
  
more often after his plan came to fruition. Talia would stop fighting him when she saw the good that would  
  
come from the change he would bring to the world. A slow change to be sure, but inevitable because of his  
  
diligent brilliance.   
  
  
  
Talia stirred as ego swelled his thoughts. Always her immediate response was to beat it back to a reasonable  
  
level. Her attempts to regain control of her own body were becoming more insistent with a growing  
  
strength worthy of an Al Guhl heir. She would never gain complete control though. Not unless he allowed  
  
it and that he would never do.   
  
  
  
Yes, he was brilliant.   
  
  
  
The only man who had ever come close to his level of intelligence was now old and mentally decrepit  
  
enough to think a witless boy could possibly replace him. A foolish waste of time it was teaching the boy a  
  
lesson in humility. Would have been simpler to just kill him, but fighting Talia on that decision had been  
  
unusually difficult. He could have had his way but decided that the effort would be wasteful. So he allowed  
  
his daughter her desire and the boy left here alive. Perhaps his injuries were severe enough that he had died  
  
after all, for Batman had been absent to the Gotham public since the day they had abducted him. Either that  
  
or the boy was as he expected-- without the strength and determination of the real Batman.  
  
  
  
************************** 


	17. Chapter 16

Author's note: I get nervous making people wait! I wanted to post more at once, but since some of you are a little anxious, I can offer this much. Hope it's enough for now.  
  
(You know--no matter how much I slave over this--it's never good enough. You readers deserve better. Maybe someday... sigh. Thanks for sticking with me in this.)  
  
*********  
  
Music from the antique jukebox reverbrated hollowly in the empty spaces of 'Howard's Place'. After many evenings noting the same lack of customer base, Terry finally queried Howard,  
  
"What's going on Howie? You lose your touch with making those fancy sandwiches of yours?"  
  
"You just had one." Howie replied glumly as he approached Terry's table. "Does it taste like I've lost my culinary abilities?"  
  
"Not according to my taste buds. Near perfection as always."  
  
"Thanks. I needed to hear that."  
  
"So where is everybody?"  
  
"The Jokerz. They're scaring business away. You know this used to be some of their territory before Batman came around. Guess they've decided to reclaim some of it since he isn't here anymore. If it keeps up much longer, I... I'll probably have to give it up. Can't pay the bills without income and no income without customers."   
  
"I'm sorry to hear that." Terry said, a measure of guilt tingeing his words. Jokerz again. The second time in one day. Why had he never realized the subtle impact his alter-ego had on society before now? Keeping the gangs of Jokerz in check had been routine for Batman. No big deal. Kinda like sweeping the floor often enough to keep the dirt from piling up and becoming an ugly nuisance. Never considered his actions could make or break a business or keep children from getting the innocence scared out of them.  
  
"Hey," Howard replied with a grin while filling Terry's glass from the bottle he had brought from the bar. "It's not your fault. My Dad said it'd be risky in this part of town. I figured it'd be worth a chance and he agreed to lend me the money, so I guess he thought it might work out too. I'll just owe him a bigger debt." He chuckled self-consciously. "I'm still paying off for damage on the house and the cred bill for Synthia."  
  
Terry smiled, remembering the party Howie had given during high school without his parent's knowledge. "That was a real disaster wasn't it?"  
  
Howie grinned wide, tipped his head back and shook it. "Too bad you weren't there to see it Terry. Man -- it was almost worth it to watch Batman in action. A way schway sight to see!"  
  
Terry gave a weak laugh and nodded. Howard turned serious.  
  
"I wonder what happened to him?"  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Batman. I mean, it's really weird not knowing. After all this time it's almost like he was just a -- collective figment of everyone's imagination. Except that -- things are changing now that he's disappeared. So I guess that means -- he was real." Howard barked a short laugh. "Weird."  
  
Terry hid his grimace behind the glass of alcohol lifted to his lips. At that moment he noticed a couple enter Howard's establishment. First reaction after surprise was to duck his head slightly and slouch back in his chair. Howard noticed the newcomers at the same time.   
  
"Hey--that looks like Max. And who's that with her? Terry--" He stared in confusion at the other man's exaggerated posture. "What are you doing?'  
  
"Hiding."  
  
"From Max?" Howard grinned, humor giving way to disbelief when he realized Terry was serious.  
  
"Don't tell her I'm here."  
  
"Why? I thought you two were working together."  
  
"Tolerating each other is more like it. It's a long story."  
  
"But--"  
  
"Just--go to her before she sees you over here, okay?"  
  
Puzzled, Howard complied, "Well... okay," and moved to greet his newly arrived customers. Terry halted him momentarily.  
  
"Leave the bottle."  
  
Howard frowned and gave his head a disapproving shake, but said nothing as he took a step back to set the bottle on the table. Through hooded eyes, Terry watched his progress as he welcomed Max and Whitfield and led them to a table on the other side of the room.  
  
The evening progressed and Terry was gratified to see the bar was more crowded than it had been for the last two weeks. Howard had created a life for himself that seemed to suit him. He wanted his friend to succeed here.   
  
From his secluded corner, Terry continued to slowly lower the level of alcohol in the bottle while watching Max and her 'friend' interact. They maintained the actions of two people who were comfortable and familiar with each other. The way they dipped their heads, faces almost touching when listening to what the other was saying. The way they would touch each other and smile and gaze at each other and... kiss.  
  
Terry thrust himself from his chair, unable to bear the sight any longer, yet too weak to stop watching. The scenery spun for a moment. He grabbed for the unfinished bottle of booze and headed for the exit, not even pausing for Howard who was hurrying to intercept him. He needed to get some fresh air before he exploded.  
  
He let his feet carry him without conscious thought. They eventually brought him to a greenspace. The little park from the other day where he lost his chance to gain the primitive satisfaction of beating up a bunch of two-legged rats that existed in Gotham called Jokerz.  
  
The park was empty. The late hour and cold, steady drizzle of spring rain keeping anyone with sense away. At the moment Terry didn't qualify. He plunked himself down on a wet bench and casually continued to down the contents of the bottle. Buttocks numbing from the cold, wet surface, Terry got up and began meandering around the playground. One hand chased droplets of water from equipment supports while the other kept tipping the almost empty bottle to his mouth.   
  
Skewed inspiration, courtesy of the chemical reaction of absorbed alcohol, had him suddenly jumping on a nearby seesaw trying to balance awkwardly on its pivot point. Laughing stupidly, his feet finally slipped completely on the wet surface and he fell to the damp ground. He picked himself up, still chuckling, and went to the climbing bars, their metal surfaces shining with a dull brightness from the streetlights. Not wanting to let go of the bottle he did one-armed pull-ups for awhile then swung his legs up to hook around a convenient bar and hung upside down until dizziness and the pounding in his head compelled him to change position.  
  
Sitting cross-legged beneath the bars he tipped the bottle high to get the last drop, immediately feeling a sense of loss knowing it was gone. He consoled himself with the thought that he could easily get more.  
  
Sounds of distant motorcycles penetrated his drunken stupor. Terry roused his curiosity and began to glance around. Unable to get a good view of anything from where he was he stumbled to a stand, hitting his head on a low bar in the process. With a mumbled curse and rub at the sore spot he staggered away from the apparatus.  
  
The sounds came louder now and he saw the dots of uneven headlights coming down the roadway towards the park. High-pitched hoots and deep-voiced shouts became clear. Terry smiled knowing this could only mean one thing. Jokerz! Time for some major butt-whopping!   
  
Empty bottle still in hand he walked unsteadily, but assuredly towards a probable intercept point--- just in case they didn't know he was waiting here. With seconds to spare, he was standing in the middle of the road. There were startled shouts as the lead bikes suddenly realized some idiot was standing right in their path. They swerved around him, but to Terry's major disappointment, kept on going. In desperation he raised a middle finger in the universal gesture of insult. Well, he wasn't sure about it being universal, but it should certainly get the desired reaction in Gotham.   
  
He offered the gesture to each biker as they passed and shouted the only thing he could think of at the moment. "Your mothers wear army boots!"  
  
All nine riders gazed at Terry suspiciously and twisted heads to share puzzled looks with each other while detouring within inches around his relaxed figure. Not even the substantial spray from their bike tires stirring puddles of water all over this fool seemed to phase him. Was this some kind of setup?   
  
In a minute they were out of sight and a throughly soaked Terry stood dejected in the suddenly quiet street. Droplets of water continued running from his soaked hair down his bearded face. He let his raised hand drop and lifted the other in hopes of getting one more swig from the empty bottle. Nothing. With a roar of frustrated anger he flung the bottle in the direction of the disappeared bikers.  
  
"Cowards!"  
  
A distant tinkle of shattered glass gave him no satisfaction either. The sudden blare of a car horn made him whirl in surprise. He lifted arms to shield his eyes from the blinding headlights as the vehicle swerved around him.  
  
"Jerk." he mumbled to the retreating machine and compelled by survival instinct, began a stumbling walk off the roadway. Time to drown his sorrows in another drink or two, except he'd have to get it somewhere besides Howard's Place. If he saw Max with that guy again, he might do something he'd regret. Funny... why did he think he was hearing her voice all of a sudden?  
  
There was another screech of tires, a brief honk and distant awareness that something big had just gone by him before someone grabbed his arm and began pulling him swiftly towards the safety of the curb. Then there was the sound of Max's tirade in his ear.  
  
"Terrence McGinnis! What the hell do you think you're doing?! You don't even have the brains God gave an ostrich! If you weren't so completely wasted I'd... I'd really give you a piece of my mind!"  
  
Terry smiled as she jerked him onto the park lawn and shoved his wavering form up against the light post. She cared! She still cared... about him. And she was so beautiful, anger bringing high color to her face and alluring essence to those huge eyes.   
  
He was about to attempt saying something out loud to that effect when sight of Whitfield behind her made him clamp his mouth shut. His mood went from ecstatic to morose in moments. He shrugged off her steadying hands and said angrily,  
  
"What're you doing here?"  
  
"Keeping you from getting yourself killed apparently."  
  
"None of your business if that's what I wanna do."  
  
"Howard was worried about you--and I can see why." Max stated, hands on hips, looking at him with disgust. "What would Bruce say if he saw you like this?"  
  
"My life... not his... or yours. Just... leave me alone." He shoved off from the lightpost and staggered away, destination: anywhere where Max and her 'friend' weren't. It wasn't long before a dull roar in his ears made him stop and question its source. Was he drunk enough to be hallucinating or was there something...  
  
The answer came in the form of Jokerz surrounding him, doing a set of intricate manuevers around him with their bikes, getting close enough that he had to dance a little to keep from being hit.   
  
Excitement, anger and wild anticipation drove alcohol's effects into the background as he readied to take on the gang he thought had run away.   
  
Muscles flexed. Mind sifted through years of fighting experience to formulate a plan for taking them all down. In moments he was following through with actions.   
  
*************************** 


	18. Chapter 17

Max snapped her gaping mouth shut at sight of Terry at the hub of the noisy wheeling of motorcycles. She peered hard at the scene. Streetlighting left many details in shadow, but she could swear that Terry had this huge smile on his face. Damn him! He was determined to get himself killed one way or another.   
  
There were too many for him to take on alone. She had to help.  
  
Hard earned experience had her mind and body shifting instinctively into Batman Back-up Mode. Two powerful options of offense/defense were immediately eliminated from her list of solutions to the situation. No batsuit and no batcave. Civilian guise left her with a call for help to the police and the more intimate methods of hand-to-hand self defense/combat.   
  
She pulled the cellphone from her small purse with an aside to Travis. "I'm calling the police."  
  
"You sure you need to Max? Look at him move." The awe in his voice made her stop and look up.  
  
Terry was displaying prime examples of 'economy of movement. She couldn't quite see how he did it, but one biker was suddenly flipped up and off his bike. The riderless machine careened into two others. One stricken bike and rider went down in an uncontrollable slide. The other did some major wobbling, while others quickly cleared a path for him, but was able to right himself.   
  
During that little distraction Terry went to unseat another rider with a simple street brawler type jab to his face. Though stunned the biker managed to hang on... until Terry sent a powerful kick at the machine itself, completely unbalancing it.  
  
"Two down, six to go." Travis murmured with a grin, his gaze riveted on the action. "Who are those guys anyway Max? What's with all the make-up and stuff?"  
  
"They're called Jokerz." Came her distracted reply as she worridly noted that the Jokerz' smug yelling and intimidating hooting had quieted. "And I think Terry's really starting to make them mad."   
  
Despite her concern, Max had an overwhelming feeling that Terry would win this fight he initiated. He had been bottled up emotionally for so long that releasing it here would do more to help him than any amount of talk or understanding. Maybe the ones she should be worried about were the Jokerz. Perhaps a call for an ambulance might be more appropriate than one to the police.  
  
Their bikes were still circling, but at a wider distance, out of Terry's easy reach. Max swallowed at new fear as weapons began to appear in some Jokerz hands. Not guns, but maces, clubs and sharp-tipped bolas that could swing in large arcs to reach intended victims.  
  
Suddenly two bikers similtaneously broke from opposite sides of the circle and raced at Terry, whose posture displayed complete nonchalance. Max wouldn't have been surprised if he'd start picking his nose just to show them how scared he wasn't and then wipe the results on one of them with dramatic flourish when they were within his reach. His sense of humor had warped a bit over the years, but he still had one.   
  
It didn't happen this time. Alcohol was probably slowing that finer tuned portion of his mind as well as his reflexes which were now contorting his body away from a swinging, unreleased bola. A split-second later the other biker was looming over him, handheld steel club rushing at Terry's head. Instead of ducking he grabbed the weapon with both hands. Max imagined she heard the slap of metal against flesh and winced. That blow to Terry's unprotected hands must have stung mightily.  
  
She saw him try jerking the club away from the biker who hung on determinedly with his one hand. The power of Terry's pull upset balance of the bike between his legs and he let go to fumble for the bike handle and right himself. Too little, too late and machine and rider made painful, intimate contact with the road.   
  
Terry had the bar now, but had to leap desperately out of the way to keep from getting hit by the out-of-control motorcycle. His awkward move and the slick road pavement led to his feet slipping out from beneath him and ending sprawled face down on the ground.   
  
She watched in mute horror as another Jokerz broke from the pack and raced at the prone form.   
  
"Get up!" her mind screamed at him, but the words came out a whisper. Beside her, Travis uttered a loud expletive and took off at a fast sprint towards the action.  
  
Max stopped herself from running after him. Her strengths were not physical ones. She had enough training to hold her own in a fight if it came to that, but too often her presence in a situation like this had been a liability, a distraction Terry/Batman did not need. She long wondered how he could separate his concern for her well-being under those harrowing instances from what she felt for him under the same circumstance. He always claimed there was no comparison.  
  
She supposed it was typical male chauvinism, still prevalent even in this century. Maybe chauvinism had a purpose. There needed to be someone around to help the poor males pick up the pieces after they lost a fight. And no matter how strong they were it would happen eventually.  
  
Max continued to hold her breath as these thoughts raced through her mind and her eyes witnessed the bike zooming with deadly intent at Terry's prone form. The other Jokerz were still not aware of Travis' approach, but she was certain he wouldn't get to Terry before the biker did.  
  
A loud exhale exploded from Max when Terry rolled aside just as the bike was about to make contact. He bolted to a sit and jabbed the steel club into the drive mechanism of the motorcycle. It made a loud squealing, thunking sound; hopped twice then flipped over; it's rider clearing the machine with a wild scramble just before it could land on top of him.  
  
Angry yells erupted from the other Jokerz. Three of them broke formation and headed for Terry, their speeds controlled and hand signals from the leader setting them into a planned attack.  
  
Terry was standing in a wary crouch now, his attention flicking from the approaching bikes to the unseated rider who was rising shakily to his feet.   
  
The three bikes took on staggered, controlled positions as distance shortened to their intended target. No weapons were evident. Max imagined they were probably simply going to batter him with their vechicles. If they used technique it wouldn't be hard. Terry couldn't continue to dodge a well thought-out attack, especially not out in the wide open like he was.  
  
Suddenly Travis entered the scene. He was easily pacing beside one of the slower moving bikes. The rider let out a startled yelp as Travis somehow reached across to grab the handlebars, yank them sharply towards him then release and jump aside as the machine's front braked. The back end continued its forward momentum flipping bike and rider in an impressive display of chaos.  
  
Travis didn't stand around and watch, already having sprinted on to the next biker and repeating the same moves.  
  
Terry was unable to relish the sight either as the lead bike was on top of him and the unseated rider from behind had gained enough of his senses to join his fellow gang member in trouncing this newfound enemy.  
  
The remainder of the fight was an intense blur of movement for Max. The remaining gang members had abandoned their bikes to join in hand to hand combat with their comrades against these two unbelievably lucky upstarts. A terrible mistake on their part. Even without the enhancements of the suit, Terry's experience and skills left no doubt in her mind about who the victors would be. And she was suitably awed at how Travis handled himself. Apparently his brawny build was not acquired from simply working out in a gym. He really knew how to make every move count.  
  
Not soon enough it was finally over. Max breathed a partial sigh of relief and shoved the phone she'd been clutching, back into her purse.  
  
She scurried around the fallen bikes and bodies over to Travis who was picking himself up off the ground. He was brushing dirt and debris from his pant legs when she reached him.  
  
"You okay?"  
  
"Yep." A big smile was plastered across his bold features. "That was fun."  
  
"Fun?" Max frowned disapproval, though inside she admitted watching the two men putting the gang of Jokerz in their place was exhilarating. A distant, recognizable groan sent her hurrying in that direction with Travis right behind her. His longer stride had him first beside Terry, helping him sit up. Max crouched on Terry's other side, gaze automatically searching for signs of injury. Her hand came up to gingerly touch a welt on his temple. He winced and ducked his head away.  
  
"You hurt anywhere else?"  
  
"If I am..." Terry was grinning like an idiot. "I'm not feeling it." He looked at Travis, respect in his voice. "Hey, you're not bad in a fight."  
  
"Thanks." Travis chuckled. "You're not bad yourself. I think if you'd been sober you wouldn't have needed my help at all."  
  
"Where'd you get some of those moves. The way you took down those bikes -- I've never seen anything like it."  
  
Travis shrugged. "Back home we indulge in a little sport called bulldogging. Guess some of that technique worked real good under these circumstances."  
  
Max gazed at Travis in surprise. "So that was the odor I -- never mind. You never told me you did rodeo stuff."  
  
"It's just a hobby. I don't do it much anymore. Especially since I discovered a much more enjoyable pastime."   
  
His warm smile left Max with no doubt that she was his new interest. Soft moans and stirring bodies alerted her to the fact that they should leave the area before a bunch of revived Jokerz decided to get revenge.  
  
"Let's move. As much fun as you two have had, I don't think you're ready for another round tonight."  
  
"I agree." Travis seconded. Terry disagreed, his words slurring as the adrenaline rush faded settling him back into drunken stupor.  
  
"I'm ready for more. Bring 'em on!" He flung an arm out, his sitting position wavering precariously from the jerking action.   
  
"Another time Terr. Come on -- up you go." With Travis on the one side and her on the other, they hoisted Terry to his feet and hung on as he sagged in all different directions.  
  
"Whooa... " he grunted. "Would someone please turn the tilt-a-vision off?"  
  
"Steady partner." Travis worked Terry's arm across his shoulders to better support and move him along.  
  
"I think I need another drink. Take me to the nearest bar."  
  
"We're taking you home and getting you to bed." Max replied sternly. Terry tilted his head in her direction, the infamous puppy-dog expression on his face and murmured with a husky slur,  
  
"You gonna join me?"  
  
"Absolutely not." Max answered without malice or forethought and looked away quickly to avoid getting sucked into those suggestive baby-blues.  
  
"Didn't think so." Terry muttered, stumbling along between the two. "I need a drink. Your rejection is too much for me to handle."  
  
"You need to get your head screwed on straight Terr. I can't believe what you're doing to yourself."  
  
"Aw... what'd you care anyway?"  
  
"I care Terry."   
  
"I need a drink."  
  
"You're not getting one." Max fumed internally. Did a more bull-headed man exist?! She quickly subdued thought of Bruce.  
  
Travis sensed the awkward exchange between the two held more meaning than he would ever know. He sought to change the focus. "Where'd you learn to fight like that Terry? I've seen stuff like that on vids, but always thought it was choreographed where everyone falls because they're supposed to."  
  
Max thought she heard swagger in Terry's slurred reply.  
  
"I've had a lot of practice. Been do'in that kind of thing for years."  
  
"You mean you're one of those martial arts masters or something?"  
  
Terry gave Travis a side-long glance, grinned and chuckled. "Not exactly." His voice dropped to a conspiratorial mumur, slur still present. "Don't tell anyone, but... heh... I used to be Batman."  
  
Max managed to turn her shocked gasp into a strangled cough. Peering worriedly across at Travis she met his amused gaze and grinned, as if she thought it was funny too.  
  
"Batman?" Travis questioned mildly, keeping the mirth in check. "Wow, that's really -- something."  
  
"You don't believe me? Ask Max. She knows. She was my backup. Damn good at it too... until she quit." He muttered and sniffed disdain.  
  
Max met Travis' gaze again, rolled her eyeballs upward and shook her head. She tried to hurry their pace as Terry continued to talk.  
  
"I could tell you stories that -- ow!" He jerked away from Max's strong pinch on his arm. At her stern look he quieted and whispered loudly. "Okay, but I don't think it matters anymore. It's all over."  
  
"I doubt Travis wants to hear about your childhood fantasies Terr. We've all had our infantile episodes of hero worship."  
  
"I don't mind Max." Travis was clearly enjoying this.  
  
"Sure you do." Max tried to keep her tone light.  
  
"I need a drink." Terry declared to no one in particular.  
  
The trio continued down the street. The gentle drizzle of spring rain that began again had dampened the roadway, sidewalks and buildings. Illumination from streetlights reflected softly from the wet surfaces. The bright sign identifying 'Howard's Place' loomed only a block away. Max could see her parked car, shining beneath it.  
  
Terry seemed 'out-of-it' as he walked unsteadily between them, humming and singing nonstop bits of that song he seemed to like about a 'superstitious, cowardly lot'. She knew Bruce didn't like it because he always grimaced in distaste when he heard it. She wasn't fond of the song either, but occasionally caught herself mumuring the words and tune without thinking.   
  
Terry let out a sudden low moan and stumbled hurridly to the nearest curb. Bending between parked vehicles, he proceeded to vomit any unabsorbed alcohol left in his stomach. From their distant waiting spot Travis remarked wryly,  
  
"I'd sure hate to be him tomorrow. It's not gonna be a pretty sight."  
  
Max folded her arms beneath her breasts angrily, "He's being an idiot."  
  
"So I gather then that... he wasn't like this before you came to Amurst?"  
  
She cast a sharp look at Travis, hesitating a second before replying, "No, he wasn't. Something... happened to him."  
  
After an interval of waiting for her to elaborate, Travis nodded, "And it's none of my business."  
  
"Right." Max replied softly.   
  
A loud fluttering sound from above made them both jerk in surprise and gaze similtaneously heavenward. A flock of pigeons had left their nocturnal roost and were heading west over the tall buildings.  
  
"That's unusual isn't it?" Max remarked.  
  
"Something must have scared them."  
  
She had her head cocked to one side, expression tense. "Do you hear that?"  
  
Travis strained to sift through the city noises to hear what would be making Max look worried. There was so much more noise here than where he came from and a lot of it left him wondering what he was actually hearing. Soon he pinpointed Max's concern. Dogs barking. Faint, but filled with anxiety. "They sound scared too."  
  
"Uh, oh." She rubbed a hand across her drooping eyelids, then reached out to steady herself against Travis. "I think we're experiencing the Gotham City Phenom."  
  
"The what?"  
  
"How are you feeling right now?"  
  
Now that she mentioned it, he realized how tired he was all of a sudden. The kind of annoying fatigue he remembered as a small child when he had permission to stay up past his usual bedtime and found he couldn't   
  
manage it. And the bruises acquired from the fight were beginning to ache.  
  
"Travis?"  
  
"Tired, I guess."  
  
"Me too."   
  
  
  
She saw that Terry was standing straight again, one arm swiping across his mouth while he cast looks around the area. He coughed and sent a worried gaze her way, raising his voice to travel the distance to her.  
  
"It's happening again." Pushing himself away from the vehicle he rejoined Max and Whitfield. "We should get out of here."  
  
Max nodded. "We could, but I think they..." She gestured toward the street. "...should all just stop and wait it out."  
  
They observed in mesmerized silence the activity around them. The smooth flow of traffic in the street began a subtle change, one Max might not have noticed if she hadn't been looking for it. It became more erratic. The sharp squeal of braked tires increased in frequency, angry blare of horns became more pronounced and incensed shouts from irritated drivers pierced the moisture-laden night air. A sudden thought had Max forcing herself to alertness.   
  
"I forgot." She stated more to herself than anyone else and hurried on towards Howard's Place. The men followed, Travis curious enough to ask,  
  
"Forgot what?"  
  
"Instruments in my car. Bruce had me take them along in case I ever encountered the phenom."  
  
Travis puzzled her words outloud. "Bruce? You mean Bruce Wayne, the owner of the company you work for?"  
  
"Ah..." Max mentally kicked herself for speaking without thinking. She had been careful about not revealing much of her past to Travis for obvious reasons. Now between her verbal slip and Terry's drunken confession Travis was bound to formulate more questions she would have to avoid answering. "Yes, that's right."  
  
"I thought he was businessman, not a scientist."  
  
"Oh, he likes to dabble with the unknown. It's one of his little hobbies. And he likes to get his employees involved whenever he can."  
  
An amused snort from Terry reconfirmed Travis' idea that there was rich history shared between these two.  
  
Max dived into the back seat of her car and rummaged for the two devices that she, Bruce and Tim had assembled to measure and record the level of different energies occurring within an affected area. Later they would compare the results to the levels outside of it and hopefully the data would reveal some answers as to what Al Guhl was doing to Gotham. That is if she could manage to get them positioned and activated. She let out an exasperated sound as the devices slipped from her hurried grip and fell to the car floor. A wave of fatigue washed over her and she rested her head against the seat for a moment. She felt weak all over. The car rocked slightly as Terry draped himself over the hood and murmured tiredly,  
  
"Everything okay Max?"  
  
She forced herself to pick up the devices and dragged them from the car. Travis was there to take one from her.   
  
"Put it on the car top." She instructed and did the same with hers. Her fingers fumbled to set the controls. Frustrating minutes later they were activated. After that the three waited, struggling all the while to fight the lethargy dragging at them.   
  
Activity in the streets ebbed and flowed irratically with the traffic signals. Many vehicles were attempting to pull over and stop, their drivers retaining enough commonsense to put themselves out of harms way as had been suggested by city officials through the media. Emergency sirens wailed eerily in the distance.  
  
Travis spoke uneasily. "Feels creepy. Like you know something's gonna happen and there's nothing you can do to stop it."  
  
Straightening from his slump, Terry became tense with alertness. He edged closer to Max, his gaze tight on the street movement, voice distracted. "You're right. Max... move away from the car. You too Travis. Let's get inside Howard's."  
  
"Not now." Max objected strongly. "The longer the data read the better chance of finding an anomaly."  
  
"Let it record then, but I want you away from here. Now Max."  
  
She shrugged off his attempt to pull her along. "Don't you--"  
  
Screeches, resounding thuds and high-pitched crashes all combined into a deafening series of sound that filled the air. It was a chain reaction of vehicles lashing remorselessly into each other.   
  
Terry didn't wait around to watch the spectacle unfold. He shoved Travis hard in one direction, grabbed Max around the waist and dived after him. Peripheral vision noted Max's car being shoved up unto the walkway right behind them. Just when it was about to flatten them, the vehicle spun away and rammed into the front of Howard's Place.   
  
Terry shielded Max from the rain of building materials. The explosive noises finally died away, leaving his ears ringing in the heavy silence that followed.   
  
  
  
********************  
  
A/N: Does writing an author's note with a bunch of excuses, mean that the writer is blocked?  
  
I need some honest feedback. I've lost perspective on this story. It seems like it's getting bloated and boring. Is it? Has it been? What are my strengths and weaknesses as a writer? Should I just write the inspired parts and forget the rest whether it makes sense or not?   
  
I want to finish this, but should I do it just to get it over with or wait and do it right?  
  
Your wonderful reviews are a mixed blessing for me. I'm awed by them, yet they also make me feel guilty for making you wait for something that may not be worth it. I truly value your opinions. Whew...thanks for letting me unload. :) 


	19. Chapter 18

Howard tried hard not to cry. Such an unmanly thing to do. But the sight of his beloved business lying in scattered ruins around him was enough to unman even the most manly man---in his estimation. He sniffed and swiped a shirt sleeve roughly across his eyes. The tears started coming so fast that his vision was blurring. Feet crunching over the debris, he found an undamaged, upright chair and plunked down onto it.   
  
Max stepped carefully across the room to place a consoling arm around his shoulder. "Oh, Howard. I know it looks bad right now, but after daylight comes it won't seem so awful."  
  
"You think so?"  
  
"Nah, she's just saying that to make you feel better." Terry drawled from where he sat on the crushed front of Max's car, scrounged drink in hand. Lights from emergency vehicles pulsed in the street behind him. "The place really is a disaster Howie."  
  
"McGinnis." Max glared at him, too tired to hold her temper any longer. "Some friend you are."  
  
"Hey, I'm just helping him face reality."  
  
"Are you sure you qualify for the job?" She retorted with heavy sarcasm, eyes pointed at the glass he held.  
  
He grimaced and hung his head. The phenom had ceased almost an hour ago. The police had come and taken a brief statement from each of them before hurrying back to the streets for the higher priority cases. Since then Terry had become completely slagged. His gut ached and his head was pounding like a pneumatic jackhammer. He didn't really want the drink. He just thought it might ease the symptoms a little. Sliding off the car, he trudged through the piled pieces of Howard's Place to the distraught owner. Squatting beside his old school friend, he did his best to cheer.  
  
"Come on Howie. Max is right. Think about the positives. Like you said before--at least no one got hurt. And it's not like you actually lost the place. You'll just be closed until repairs are made. I'm sure your insurance covers lost income along with the rest."  
  
Howard stared wide-eyed at him for a moment then slapped palms against his face and moaned loudly.  
  
"Oh no. No...no...no!"  
  
Max and Terry shared a confused glance before Max patted Howard's shoulders saying worridly,  
  
"Howie--what's wrong?"  
  
"Insurance! The premium was due last week. I didn't have the money. I figured on paying it at the end of this week. Slag it! My Dad is going to kill me when he finds out!"  
  
"There's usually a grace period for those kinds of things." Max replied calmly now that she understood his distress. "You're probably still covered."  
  
"This was the second notice! I knew I was pushing it. I knew it was a risky thing to do, but I just didn't have the money. You know how bad business has been lately Terry."  
  
"Why didn't you say something?" Terry gaped, surprised by Howard's admission and the stupidity of it. "I could have helped."  
  
Looking angrily at Terry, Howard sprung from his chair. "Believe it or not I do have my pride. And lately you've done a pretty good job of chipping away at it. I know I'm nowhere near your league in the business world, but I'm proud of how I made it this far. And call it a copout if you want, but if it weren't for those Jokerz this never would have happened."  
  
He pivoted his pudgy body away from them and walked towards where the curved bar had once stood, kicking debris from his path in agitation. Max gave Terry an accusing look which clearly said that he should be ashamed of himself. He averted his face from her and quickly clambered to his feet, sluggish mind working furiously to find a solution to Howard's unfortunate circumstances.  
  
"Look, Howie... I'm sorry if I ever made you feel bad. I didn't mean to."   
  
Howard ignored him, instead stooping down to pick up unbroken glasses and intact bottles. When he had an armful he placed them neatly on a standing table nearby. Trying to be helpful, Terry did the same, gathering up and placing his armload clumsily beside Howie's.  
  
"Hey, you know there's something I've been wanting to run by you. Been thinking about it for quite awhile actually. Never seemed the right time to discuss it with you before. I think now might be a good time."   
  
Howard continued to ignore him, intent on cleaning up the place. Terry doggedly followed suit, gritting his teeth from the extra pounding in his head each time he bent over to pick things off the floor. "Working for Mr. Wayne does have it's perks. He pays pretty well. So I've got substantial creds tucked away and was thinking I could be doing something with them that could pay off better than where they are now."  
  
Howard went to great lengths to avoid looking at Terry who repeatedly tried to get 'in his face'. He dragged a large trash can out from one of the undamaged back rooms and began tossing broken objects into it. Moving faster than Terry had ever seen him, Howie attacked the mess around him. Fatigue made Terry stop and stand where he stood, vainly trying to be heard through the rattle and thud of tossed garbage landing in the metal container.  
  
"So I was thinking--ah--maybe Howie would like a partner in the business."   
  
Terry winced as the clatter of objects hitting the trash can came louder and faster. Howard's jerky, rapid movements indicated he was dealing with an unusual degree of anger. Carelessly thrown pieces began ricocheting off the can hitting Terry who backed away in self-defense.   
  
He sent a wan, helpless look to Max. Hands on hips, the disgust in her tired expression showed not a hint of sympathy for him. Feeling about as wanted as a spark in the gunpowder storage shed, Terry decided to leave. Maybe after Howard calmed down he'd be able to talk some sense to him.   
  
As he headed for an opening in the mangled building front, Travis came rushing through it. There was a triumphant expression on his face and two familiar looking devices clutched in each hand. He gave Terry a passing glance and headed straight towards Max, saying excitedly.  
  
"Max. I found them." Arms outstretched he handed the instruments into her eager hands. "One of them was in pieces, but I think I found most of it. The other one hardly had a scratch on it."  
  
"This is great Travis." She shared his excitement. "I can't believe you were able to find both of them." Quickly she found a flat surface to lay them on, her long, tapered fingers expertly checking them over.  
  
"What exactly were they measuring?"  
  
"This damaged meter was reading the strength of the electomagnetic fields during the phenom. The other one was measuring the electrostatic fields." Her voice trailed off as she peered closely into one piece of damaged technology. After a tense couple of seconds she proclaimed happily. "Good. Looks like the main chip is still intact. We should be able to retrieve the data when we get back to the ca---ah---lab."  
  
She flashed a quick look at Travis, relieved to see his attention was partly diverted on the furiously active Howard.   
  
Howard abruptly stopped moving, looked at the retreating Terry and yelled his name. Terry pivoted cautiously. Howard spoke with surprise in his voice.  
  
"What did you say before?"  
  
Taking steps in the other man's direction, Terry replied. "I was wondering if you were interested in taking on a partner in your business."  
  
"You?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"You're serious?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"You'd do that for me?"  
  
"For both of us. You've got a good thing going here Howie. I want in on it. It'll be an investment that's going to go places."  
  
"What about the Jokerz?"  
  
Terry shrugged. "The police will get them in line eventually."  
  
Skepticism laced Howie's voice. "You really think so?"  
  
An intangible force drew Terry's gaze to Max. Her eyes held a mixture of curiosity and doubt. He answered Howard while wondering what thoughts compelled her look. "Yeah, I do. What do you think Max?"  
  
"Anything is possible. And who knows..." Their gazes locked and held steady. Terry's showed questioning. Max's relayed hope. Her murmur seemed like it was for his ears only. "Maybe Batman will even show up again someday."  
  
They're doing it again, Travis thought as he witnessed the exchange between the two. It was like they weren't aware of anyone or anything except themselves. And they were communicating a lot more to each other than mere words. And why did Terry hang his head like that after the remark about Batman. Like he was ashamed or something.   
  
He turned away tiredly and found a place to sit. No sense getting upset. He had always known he'd had competition for Max's affections, despite what she constantly claimed. He just didn't realize how strong a hold the opposition had on her.   
  
Travis stared bleary-eyed through the gaping splintered front of the building. Orange light from the newly rising sun illumed the chaotic scene outside. A surge of homesickness went through him. They never had days or nights like this in Amurst, he bemoaned silently.   
  
Slow realization began to change his attitude. This was kind of exciting--in a morbid sort of way. People getting hurt and killed was not a good thing. But back home--nothing--ever--happened. Last exciting event in Amurst that he could remember was when Chuck Feld's Holstein bull walked through the home fence, trotted on over to Nan Vanderveld's place and impregnated eight of her prize Angus heifers. Neighbors in a five mile radius claimed they could hear her screaming in outrage for a good thirty minutes.  
  
Fighting a gang, being in the middle of a mysterious city-wide problem and practically getting plowed under by a runaway car; all in one night, was something he could brag about back home; if that was his style. He grinned at the thought of his friends in Amurst hanging on his every word as he told the tale.   
  
Travis looked over at Max who was watching McGinnis and Howard shake hands. Guess the partner thing was going to happen. He ran his gaze over Max's generous curves and considered her even more generous spirit. She was a woman worth fighting for. Maybe he'd stick around in Gotham for awhile longer. After all, a little excitement now and then was good for a person.   
  
****  
  
FINALLY! Another chapter. It's literally been a sentence a day, but at least it's something. Thanks for understanding. 


	20. Chapter 19

The meadow grasses rustled softly in the fresh spring breeze. Tamera laid back on the cushion of sun-warmed blades, arms covering her eyes from the bright light shining down from the cloudless blue skies. She breathed in deeply of the scented air and smiled.  
  
The wonder of this perfect moment filled her with such contentment that she wanted to cry for joy. But she wouldn't let that happen. Tears were a release for her pain, not happiness. And she had shed plenty in the last months. Her sanity was fragile enough without confusing it more by categorizing her reason for tears.  
  
Letting her mind drift into a trancelike state she could sense, without effort, the overall bliss of her fellow human beings in the great city beyond this small hill. Gotham's people were relishing, to some degree, the beauty of this day. She could feel their momentary peace and it buoyed her weary spirit. Memories of a blissfull, ignorant childhood came to mind. Her smile widened even through the longing to see her parents again. To see them safe from Ras threats. There was little else she cared about.   
  
She feared for them just like she feared for all the inhabitants of Gotham. That machine Ras had made was killing them. Sucking the energy from every living thing within its reach. She could not understand his purpose for creating the machine, but she knew he was gathering the energy for some great plan.   
  
Nor did Talia know what her father's ultimate goal was. The subliminal communication Tamera was able to establish with the tortured woman revealed few clear details. Was it because of Tamera's lack of ability to understand her or that Talia truly did not know enough? It didn't matter. Either way the mystery remained.  
  
Tamera's happy mood began to wane until a rough, slimy tongue dragged across her bare arm. She smiled and slowly moved arms from her face, not wanting to frighten the friendly bovine standing over her. Laying in the animal's pasture was a clear invitation to this sort of encounter. It had become routine since the warmer weather had triggered growth of the meadow grasses and the neighboring farmer had let his animals out to graze. Tamera always managed to sneak away from the house for a few minutes every day to come here. After many days of sitting and watching, the cows had gotten over their fear of her and allowed her to approach. Now she was able to pet a few of the bolder ones as they picked away, contented, on the tender grasses.   
  
The huge black and white head drooled and snuffled against her shoulder. She wasn't sure if it was looking to be petted or wanted her to move so it could eat the long grass beneath her body. She had named this one, Panda because it's coloring and long winter hair reminded her of a stuffed panda bear she owned once. Panda's winter fur was gone now, but she let Tamera cuddle against her like the stuffed animal of her past.  
  
At the cow's insistence, Tamera stood and began to lovingly stroke the huge animal while it grazed. She smiled wide in happiness as her hands caressed the soft coat. Lost in her innocent world, she did not notice company approaching until Panda raised her head in alarm and began to move away. Tamera's puzzlement ended quickly at the slow drawl of a hated voice.  
  
"Here you are child. I was becoming worried when I could not find you inside."  
  
She faced him slowly. He had that false amusement on his face. Feeling the emotion in him that triggered it usually made her want to vomit. The four mindless ones flanked him as always. They were physically unattached appendages that Ras controlled with a softly spoken word or minor gesture. The times when she wept with hopelessness, she also cried for them. They were as trapped by Ras as she and Talia were.  
  
"I approve of your friends." Ras nodded regally towards the retreating herd. "They will never lead you to betray me."  
  
"You won't hurt them?" Her voice trembled with new fear. It had never occurred to her that he might harm the animals. Oh why hadn't she thought of that?  
  
"No child. They are innocent beasts. Incapable of the devastation and deviousness that humans inflict on this earth. They will have a place in my new world."  
  
He spoke with a compassion that Tamera sensed was real. It was when he talked about the future, about the world he wanted to create that he was most sane. Those were the only times she could relax around him. She murmured an appropriate and sincere response.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
This time his smile was real and benevolent. "Come child. We have much work to do."   
  
He beckoned her to follow. Eager to maintain his good mood, she hurried to fall in step beside him.  
  
********************  
  
Every time Terry got a glimpse of Eric Manti's long blond hair he had to invoke a calming mantra to keep his short fuse from lighting up. It wasn't the man's looks that annoyed him, it was the personality under the hair. And the fact that Manti had made it clear he held zero respect for Terry and his position beside the reknowned head of WayneTech.   
  
Business degree firmly in hand at a young age, Manti had been scooped up eagerly by WayneTech and worked his way rapidly up through the ranks of the company. He had developed a solid reputation for professionalism and the ability to come up with fresh, workable ideas when a solution was being sought.   
  
Terry would not deny the man had more experience than he did, but the guy was a couple of years older. Give him those years to catch up and he'd be just as good. Especially now that the time he used to spend as Batman was being channeled into the job. And as for a college degree--well, he was working on that too.  
  
Too bad Manti didn't share his optimism. At every opportunity he would undermine Terry's authority, ideas and even his very presence in the company. This was all done quite subtly of course. Bruce was aware, like he was of everything. When Terry complained once, Bruce simply told him to keep personalities out of it, deal objectively with whatever Manti tossed his way and learn from the man because he was damn good at what he did.  
  
So, for the last few weeks that's what he had been doing. Ignoring the digs and veiled putdowns, keeping his temper in check and seeking the lesson to be learned at each 'episode'.   
  
Today Terry knew exactly when and where Manti would subject him to a lesson. At the monthly board meeting. Sometime between the afternoon hours of one and three. At this particular meeting each department head was supposed to recite their suggestions to meet the challenge brought forth at last month's meeting.   
  
And every board member was to volunteer their thoughts on the suggestion if they were so inclined. Terry's turn came and as usual Manti began reaming on the ideas presented. Terry knew the ideas were good ones. (Even Max said so.) And the ideas weren't just his. Every member of the department had some input into it. (Thanks again to Max. She had a way of bringing the best out in people.)  
  
Sooo--when Terry felt his control begin to slip, he felt a certain justification in voicing some objection. Manti wasn't just attacking him. He was attacking the entire department. And as the head of that department it was his duty to defend their hard work.  
  
"I don't think you understand the concept we're trying to present here Mr. Manti. Our department is--"  
  
"No. It's you who doesn't understand Mr. McGinnis. I agree it's a good idea, but the cost of bringing it into existence goes way beyond reasonable. Unless--" Eric tilted his body slightly in Terry's direction, mocking curiosity in his voice. "You're about to inform us of the discovery of some vital new technology to make this work as easily as you suggest."  
  
Terry took in a slow breath to control his rising ire. "I never said it would be easy."   
  
"What are you saying then?" Eric combined an attitude of indulgence and boredom skillfully. "That we should consider this just because it's you who's presenting it?"  
  
Terry forced a smile as he stared at the other man sitting directly across the table. Manti's smug look and self-assured words were painfully reminiscent of Ras/Talia and triggered a surprising surge of anger inside him. He remained in control of it, speaking carefully,  
  
"You said yourself it was a good idea. That's reason enough to consider it some more before tossing it aside just because it wasn't yours."  
  
"Well said," Eric's grin was stiff. "Especially coming from someone whose own business acuity leaves me wondering how he could have so easily become a part of this company, much less have a place at this table."  
  
Other personnel around the table began to shift uncomfortably in their seats, some peering at Eric or Terry, the more bold sending a furtive glance in Bruce's direction. Bruce maintained his in-charge calm demeanor, though Eric had to shy away from the cold glance the elder sent his way.  
  
  
  
Terry noted none of it. He was staring at Manti without seeing him, his mind flashing memories of Ras and his words. Words that were meant to wound and demean. Words Ras had recited over and over with every beating that had made him doubt himself as Batman. And now Manti was trying to finish the process by openly discrediting Terrry's place beside Bruce in this company.   
  
He felt the anger moving him. Anger that wasn't directed at Ras or Manti. It was anger at himself for letting others feed on his self-doubt. Realizing that helped nothing. He needed to release it and the obvious available target was sitting conveniently close enough to.....  
  
It wasn't really a conscious thought that lifted him from his chair and made him lean over the expanse of table with arm raised and fist cocked at Manti's gaping face. It was definitely a conscious decision to not follow through, though he did feel great satisfaction in keeping the threat looming for a few seconds.  
  
"Terry." The sharp edge to Bruce's softly spoken word easily sliced through the emotionally charged air between the two men. Eric's fear faded and he felt immediate vindication as he eased back in his seat. Terry slid down into his chair, his anger shifting in a new direction after hearing Bruce's final words.   
  
"You're excused from the remainder of this meeting. Wait for me in my office."  
  
He sat stone still for a long moment, staring blindly at the table top, his mind seething with a final sense of betrayal. So, even Bruce was against him now. All eyes in the deadly quiet room seemed to be pointed at him, watching for his response. If they were waiting for him to make a scene, they were going to be disappointed.   
  
Without looking at anyone, Terry slowly gathered his tabletop information and returned it to his briefcase. He rose smoothly from his chair and walked unhurridly from the room.   
  
***** 


	21. Chapter 20

Bruce entered his appropriately spacious office. He glimpsed Terry staring out a far window as he made his way to his desk. He settled into the chair, stoic posture revealing none of what he was feeling. He'd been more than patient with his protege's poor attitude these past weeks and was willing to remain that way indefinitely. But he wouldn't allow that attitude to continue to infect the health of WayneTech. Terry's bullyish display with Manti was clear indication to Bruce that he needed to force a change. Personally he wouldn't have minded seeing Manti's self-important attitude humbled a bit. And from the eager expressions he noticed on some of the other department heads when Terry's fist was so eloquently poised near Manti's face, he realized the opinion was a shared one.   
  
Bruce waited in silence for a few minutes until Terry reluctantly came to stand before the desk. He waited another minute allowing Terry to speak first. The young man remained silent, eyes lowered. Bruce steeled himself to speak in a quiet, neutral voice.  
  
"I can't allow this to go on any longer Terry. Regardless of the reasons for the monumental chip you seem to enjoy carrying on your shoulder these days, you will either get rid of it or lose your position at WayneTech. And I'm certain you understand the logic behind this decision as well as I do."  
  
"I understand." Terry nodded and calmly met Bruce's gaze. "And I'm sorry if I embarassed you in there."  
  
"Embarassment has nothing to do with this."  
  
"Yes sir."  
  
"Don't do that." Bruce felt the knot of anger form in his gut. Calling him sir and acting all humble. What a load of crap. Terry taking on the subservient role was way out of character. If that kind of relationship had ever exisited between them it had disappeared early on. So him doing it now meant what? That he was trying to make him angry, hoping to push him away like he'd been doing with everyone else?   
  
"Sir?"  
  
Bruce grit his teeth while maintaining outward calm. Terry saying that word grated like fingernails on a chalkboard. If he said it one more time Bruce wondered if he could stop himself from giving the youngster a fat lip. He managed to continue a calm tone as he replied,  
  
"Don't act like this is some kind of punishment. It's not. This is simply a choice you need to make. And make it you will, whether it's a conscious decision or not." He unconsciously fisted one hand beneath the desk in anticipation of Terry's next words.   
  
Terry said nothing, gaze dropped, his own hands fisting at his side. Bruce could feel it now. The young man's anger. Radiating out invisibly like heat from a fire. But Terry remained unmoved, holding it tightly in check.   
  
Bruce waited.  
  
"It won't happen again." Terry excused himself gruffly before turning to leave.   
  
"Terry."  
  
Terry paused.  
  
"Talk to me."  
  
"About what?"  
  
"Whatever you're thinking right now?"  
  
"I...don't think that would be wise."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"They're not nice thoughts."  
  
"Do they concern me?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Then I'd like to hear them. Especially since doing that would help you."  
  
Terry slowly turned to face Bruce,   
  
"Help me?" Sarcasm laced Terry's voice and expression. "Like you helped me over four years ago when you offered me the 'job' as your 'assistant'?"   
  
  
  
Bruce eyed him silently. Terry nodded knowingly,  
  
"I remember how you smiled, reached out your hand and said; 'Welcome to my world.' Did you know what that meant when you said those words?" He raised his brows in question, hard glint in the blue eyes he rested on Bruce. A pause and he gave an exaggerated nod. "Yes. Of course you did. Did you bother telling me what was in your world?" Another pause with a clear shake of his head following. "Nah. Let the boy find out for himself you probably said to yourself. Let him learn the lessons on his own. It'll be good for him--make him stronger--smarter--wiser. Cause that's the way Batman has to be. Better than anyone else. Better than you even."  
  
Bruce remained visibly unmoved by Terry's incensed stare and impassioned words.   
  
A grimace contorted Terry's bearded face. He leaned over, hands slapping the smooth-topped desk, gaze inches away and level with his old mentor's. He spat out the next words with a vehemence Bruce had never experienced from him before.  
  
"Well guess what? I don't like your world. It sucks!"  
  
Bruce was hard-pressed to keep from lowering his eyes against the blaze of Terry's directed anger. Abruptly the young man bowed his head, giving it a dismissive shake.  
  
"This is all wrong." He muttered in disgust and sprung away from the desk, heading for the exit without another look at Bruce.  
  
The elder did not attempt to stop him. It was a strange new twist to their relationship, realizing the student had reached a level of growth where he could surprise his mentor. There was a greater depth to Terry's anger than Bruce had realized. And yet he sensed Terry was holding it in tight control. So what else was he not seeing? What else was this amazing young man capable of? How much longer would it be before Terry came to grips with this troubling episode in his life and moved on to a higher level?   
  
Hopefully before he alienated everyone and everything around him with his negative emotion and before his toying with alcohol became more than a knee-jerk habit to distract himself from his thoughts. That's probably where he was going now. To get a drink.   
  
Bruce watched Terry storm for the office door, pause before it to gain composure, then step through and close it quietly behind him. He nodded approval. Another sure sign that Terry controlled the anger and not vice versa. Trusted gut feelings told him that Batman would return in time to help save Gotham from Ras Al Ghul's all-encompassing evil. Childish sentiment or wishful thinking? Hardly. Simple benefits of a long, full life of experiences and faith in the resilience of the human spirit.  
  
**********************  
  
Max slipped into Terry's office unannounced, not wanting to give him a chance to avoid her. If he heard her enter he didn't acknowledge it. He was where she assumed he'd be. At the small bar built into the office's back wall, throwing back the last of a drink.  
  
Approaching slowly, she stopped halfway across the room. He eyed her and said nothing, turning instead to refill the glass.  
  
She stated the words in a neutral tone. "I heard what happened."  
  
"From the janitor I'll bet." Terry remarked sarcastically while pausing his pour from bottle to glass. "What's the rumor this time? That Wayne had enough of his 'pet' project and was giving the dumb sucker his long deserved boot out of the company?"  
  
"Don't be ridiculous." Max scolded and took a few steps closer. "You were out of line in there. It's Bruce's job to keep the meeting orderly and on topic. He would have done the same to anyone under those circumstances."  
  
"I didn't do anything wrong."  
  
Her eyebrows arched, "So you didn't threaten Eric Manti with a right jab?"  
  
Terry chuckled. "I just wanted to see how much the pansy would flinch. I wasn't actually going to hit him."  
  
"Sounds pretty childish on your part."  
  
"Okay, it probably was." He admitted gruffly and took in a fresh swallow of liquor. "But I did get him to take me seriously for a change."  
  
"You're smarter than that Terry."  
  
"Forget about it Max. I'm not feeling repentant and I'm not in the mood for a lecture telling me why I should be." He finished off his drink in two gulps and turned back to the bar for a refill. Turning to face her again, Terry saluted her with it and tipped the glass to his lips.  
  
Something snapped inside Max as she watched him. She had seen enough of his self-destructive behavior over these last weeks and refused to remain a passive observer any longer. An unfamiliar part of her compelled her angry stride to end the distance between them.   
  
Within reach her arm flung out to smack the freshly filled glass of booze from his hand. She saw his expression of surprise and followed his gaze to the carpeted floor where the spilled liquid was staining it. His eyes were narrowed and questioning on her as she spoke.  
  
"I won't let you keep doing this to yourself. This is not who you are."  
  
"How do you know who I am? I don't even know! And what do you care? You walked out of my life, remember?"  
  
"And what about me walking back into it? Do I get any credit for that?"   
  
He grunted a nonanswer and went to pour himself another drink.  
  
  
  
Max stepped into his path, making him jerk to a stop.   
  
"What the...?" His irritated stare turned indignant. "The old man offered you some kind of bribe to get you to come back didn't he? Cause I sure don't get the impression you enjoy my company."  
  
"What do you expect when you act like an ogre all the time. I'm surprised your office staff didn't pool their money together and hire a hit man to get you off their cases."  
  
"Funny." Terry sneered as he stepped around her to get a new drink.   
  
Max sidled over to block him again and wondered what kind of fire she was playing with when he settled angry, smoldering eyes on her.   
  
His arms came up as if to grab her, then dropped back. He pivoted and began to walk away. There were other places he could get a drink. The brief touch of Max's hand on his shoulder stopped him. The sympathy weighting her husky voice both comforted and infuriated him.   
  
"I'm sorry for what you had to go through Terry. I wish it wouldn't have happened."  
  
"It might not have..." He clipped, twisting to face her. "... if you'd been here."  
  
She lowered her eyelids against the indictment. That possible truth continually haunted Max, though she knew the reasons she had left were valid.   
  
"Maybe." She admitted softly. "But neither of us can go back and change it. And just for the record -- which I will say for the last time -- I have never given up on you. I have always believed in you Terry. And I always will. The problem is ---- you've stopped believing in yourself." 


	22. Author's Note

Author's Note  
  
Flabbergasted----is the word that comes close to the feelings I experienced from all the feedback you've given me. Honestly! I just kept staring at the screen, unable to believe people who I have no connection with except through this story, have taken their valuable time and own considerable writing talent to let me know how they felt.  
  
Besides expressing a hundred Thank You's to each of you, I can only repay your thoughtfulness by finishing this story to the best of my abilities. Your faith in me has renewed faith in myself.   
  
I ran across this quote yesterday that somehow seems to fit here. It's by Luciano De Crescenzo and who he is I have no idea, though I'm grateful for his insight.   
  
"We are each of us angels with one wing. And we can only fly by embracing each other."  
  
We can't do anything alone, but by supporting each other we can reach the unimaginable.  
  
*My sincere and humble thanks to all of you.* 


	23. Chapter 21

Tim scrubbed at the known lock of graying hair on his scalp. As if he could erase the years that had brought it on and once more feel the limitless energy of his youth. A glance at Bruce gave him a guilty feeling of relief. At least the old man looked as tired as he did. Awful embarrassing if he couldn't keep up with a man thirty years older than he was, even though he was Batman. At the moment Bruce was staring up at the computer screen, hands triangled beneath his chin in his usual poise of thoughtfulness. Fatigue graveled his voice more than normal as he said,  
  
"Let's go over this once more."  
  
"We're wasting time Bruce." Max snapped as she whirled away from his side. "Whether we look at it forward, backward or inside out it all comes out the same. The man is insane! There can't be any logic to what he's doing."  
  
"Wrong Max," Tim intoned tiredly. "Al Ghul has never lost sight of his ultimate goal. And he's always been willing to do whatever it took to achieve it."  
  
"Other than living forever and ruling the world, what else could he possibly want?"  
  
Tim pushed away from the console and stretched stiff back muscles, "He not only wants power over the world, he wants it ordered to his imagination. Exactly what that is--I'm not sure even he knows."  
  
"He knows." Bruce stated with finality. "But that's not important. We're not going to let him get to that point. Right now we need to find out how he's siphoning aether energy away and where he's funneling it to."  
  
"How is he getting it? I don't understand how he can capture 'living' energy. I mean--I just don't get the physics of the aether. If we can't identify or measure it, how can he harness it?"  
  
"Well, somehow he is." Tim motioned to data on the screen. "The energy measurements we can detect show massive fluctuations in affected areas. Something is triggering those reactions. The general weakness of victims is probably caused by their 'living energy' being taken from them. That's why the weaker ones succumb. They don't have the strength to maintain bodily functions that are already compromised by illness or old age."  
  
"Does it mean anything that the intervals between each phenom have increased along with their duration?   
  
"Only that it makes it much more dangerous for anyone in those areas. If this keeps up there won't be a place in Gotham that hasn't been touched. I'm worried enough about Grace and the girls that I'm thinking of sending them to visit her mother in Washington until this is dealt with."  
  
"You're not the only one thinking that way. There's a slowly building exodus of citizens out of Gotham."  
  
Bruce's chair creaked as he leaned back and offered, "I'm not sure they'll be safer anywhere else. If Ra's ultimate plans are as global as usual--no one on Earth will be safe."  
  
"Okay." Max released a loud, exasperated sigh, "If we have a good idea what this is--can we counteract it somehow? At least until we can shut--whatever it is--down for good."  
  
Both men looked thoughtfully at her for a moment. Then Bruce touched a key on the console. View on the screen changed to a green-lined map of the city. Yellow lighted circles of different shades and sizes dotted areas on it. They were the areas in Gotham that had been exposed to the phenom.  
  
"I was hoping there'd be some central point of operation, a way of pinpointing the source. But none of the areas have ever intersected. There's no discernable pattern between the areas and the attacks seem to have been random compared against any logical measurement I can come up with."  
  
There was another long silence as the three racked their brains for more answers.   
  
"If he's storing the energy somewhere, why can't we detect it?" Tim said.  
  
Max was quick to answer, "Maybe it's shielded or maybe we don't have the right instrument to find it."  
  
"What makes you think he's storing it?" Bruce corrected, "Maybe it's being used immediately for some other purpose."  
  
Tim's curiosity piqued with the new train of thought, "Like what?"   
  
Wrinkles deepening as he frowned, Bruce shook his head, "I don't know--yet."  
  
********  
  
They were all dead. The Master had become impatient with the scientists and with a wave of his hand they were destroyed. She saw the first die because she hadn't turned away quickly enough. The guard had responded in the blink of an eye. She saw the glint of his knife and the welling blood as the sharp edge slid across the soft flesh of the man's throat.   
  
Tamera spun away from the sight, both hands covering her face. Those hands changed position to slap over her ears as she tried to block the gurgling sound coming from the dying scientist. She ran from the room when the other captives began to scream.   
  
Master Ra's had not given her permission to leave, but nothing could keep her standing there any longer. No punishment for disobeying could be worse than experiencing that horror. Not even the threat to her parents.  
  
She dashed through the house, into her bedroom and burrowed into a corner of the closet. Huddled there, she desperately tried to push the grisly images away and replace them with her strongest and happiest memories.  
  
  
  
Too soon he was there. Bidding her to come out, using Talia's gentlest voice and holding out a ringed hand for her to grasp when she peered up at him.   
  
"Come with me. It's time you learn fully what I have planned."  
  
Knowing there was no escape, Tamera forced herself to obey. She offered her hand, feeling the other's thin, cold grasp enfold lightly around it.   
  
They walked to a heavily guarded area of the estate. Instead of a door, this outbuilding had an elevator as an entrance. Ra's waved a hand and it opened. They rode the chamber down and stepped out into bright, artificial light illuming a yawning area.  
  
She had been here once before when he showed her the machine he had built with the help of the scientists that had just died and others like them. He had explained nothing, letting her surmise what she could on her own.   
  
The interior smelled strange. A burnt, sweetness hung in layers of the air. So strong at times as she walked behind Ra's that she wanted to gag. Her eyes were drawn to a clear cubicle set in the middle of the massive building. Conduits of different sizes radiated out from the cubicle into different machines surrounding the room. Lying inside the enclosed container something--pulsed.   
  
Tamera stared, trying to identify and name with her eyes this--something, that her special sense was telling her was alive. Its' shapeless, pearlesant mass bubbling with small irregular beats belied the fire of energy she felt dwelling inside. She couldn't understand why it wasn't exploding with the power she sensed coming from it.   
  
"What is it?" She asked softly looking at Ra's self-satisfied face.  
  
"An unintended byproduct of my original plan. One that will bring to fruition all that I have strived for these many centuries. Watch now and see the wonders it is capable of."   
  
Ra's gestured to one of the many technicians that had come to attention when he entered the area. That one quickly activated a switch on the panel near him. Tamera heard a faint hiss and every head in the room turned toward the cubicle.  
  
Three cages slid into the cubicle at different points. Inside one was plant life--foliage, flowers in different stages of bloom and samples of edible fruits and vegetables. In another, live creatures--rats, lizards, fish swimming in a small tank. The last held insects--swarming, scuttling, darting against the barriers of their cage.   
  
Without visible sign of intent the blob moved. A part of it stretched upward, then thinned itself outward into three directions. Becoming as transparent as a soap bubble it hovered motionless a few feet over the cages for two seconds before retreating back to its former state.   
  
It took Tamera a few seconds longer to notice that the life within the cages was now motionless. The plants withered and dry. The creatures lying flat and sunken. The insects piled in unmoving heaps. All dead. She looked wide-eyed at the Master who nodded sagely,  
  
"A very small sample of its abilities."  
  
"What has it done?"  
  
"What all living creatures must do to survive. Ingest nourishment so it may sustain itself and grow. But instead of using the primitive methods we are familiar with of digesting matter to energize us, this takes in the energy in its purest form. I find such refinement quite admirable. I'm sure you'll be just as impressed when you see what it can do on a larger scale."   
  
He nodded regally at another technician and the entire scene suddenly burst with action. People began running in all different directions. A heavy rumble of sound started and the cubicle with all the equipment around it was isolated onto a single platform. Then the whole thing began moving upwards.   
  
The Master grabbed her arm and pulled her up along with him onto the platform, standing unperturbed by all the bustle around him. Tamera smelled a rush of fresh air and looked up to see the ceiling falling back to reveal twinkling stars in the night sky. A huge hovercraft drifted silently over the open space, its cavernous bay open to admit the rising platform.  
  
Soon the platform was locked inside the hovercraft and they were flying rapidly towards the distant lights of Gotham City. Tamera followed Ra's further into the craft until they reached an observation point where they could see both the cubicle and the city skimming by beneath them. She stood quietly beside him while he sat on the lone chair.   
  
The abnormal silence of this craft sent an eerie feeling of unease through Tamera. Such bulk and power flying through the air with only the whisper of sound an owl would make on its night hunt was wrong. She didn't have long to ponder as the craft slowed and halted to hover over a portion of the busy city, leaving her wondering where.   
  
In the silence she easily heard a hiss of sound. The same sound as when the cages entered the cubicle. Her eyes went in that direction and she saw one side of the cubicle slide away. The blob flowed out. Stretching out into the thin air it spread itself into the thinness of a soap bubble. The length and width of a football field now it floated gently on the currents, a few hundred feet above the tallest building below.  
  
Soon it began to shimmer, tiny bursts of light traveling from one end to the other. As the minutes passed she could see the pinpoints join together and make a brighter, more sustained light. After that the blob began to lose its soap bubble transparency, becoming thicker and heavier since it seemed to lose buoyancy and sink on the air currents.   
  
Ra's gestured. A nameless technician turned to her work station, her hands performing an intricate pattern over the console. A bundle of netting burst out from the edge of the platform, spread and grabbed onto a corner of the sated blob. Gently it reeled the creature in until releasing it once the blob began to flow back into the cubicle on its own. The cubicle side closed and the hovercraft headed home.  
  
An activated vidlink beside the Master drew Tamera's attention. It was live coverage of an area of Gotham newly hit by the mysterious phenom. The reports were grim with numerous scenes of victims caught in many different ways by the effects of what the creature had just finished causing. Ra's clicked the link off and turned to her.  
  
"You see child? My plan is a simple one. This creature is like the natural predators who weed out the ill and old in the wild. Only the young and strong of humanity will survive and they will be under my rule. And of those who survive and refuse my leadership--a sustained visit by this creature under my control will punish them permanently. Gotham is the beginning--the testing ground. When I have perfected procedures here I will move on to the next city and so on until the world is mine. Soon we will live in a world where only the worthiest and most obedient of humanity will be welcome to join us. People who will share our love for this Earth and treat it with the respect it has not been given for many centuries."  
  
He finished speaking and settled back in the chair, a satisfied smile appearing. His eyes became unfocused as he looked at her and she knew he was slipping into madness again. She closed her ears to the low inane laughter that shook him.  
  
No! Tamera's mind screamed at a slow revelation. After all she had done for him, after all his promises….he was going to kill her parents. They were older and had health problems. Her mother had diabetes and her father's heart was weak. They would never fit into HIS world. They had nothing useful to offer HIS world. Could she trust anything he said anymore?   
  
Her mother and father were still alive. She would know instantly if their lives ceased. She couldn't explain how she knew. She just did. Just like she did with all her abilities. They were alive and she would do anything in her power to keep them that way.  
  
Calming herself, Tamera could think of one solution to her dilemma. There was only one person she trusted completely who had the capabilities to overcome the Master's evil.   
  
Batman.  
  
He was healing... slowly. He was searching…and finding new strengths within himself. She had been sensing this. But was he strong enough now to confront Master Ra's and defeat him? If she asked him for help would he be willing?   
  
There was no time to wait. All she could do was tell him of the Master's plan. All she could do was ask for his help. The decision was his alone to make.  
  
**************  
  
Intent on some serious drinking, Terry settled himself securely atop a stool at the bar. Since Howie's Place was in the midst of remodeling he'd developed a routine of visiting a different establishment every time the urge to imbibe came over him. He kept more to the seedier neighborhoods; liking the gloomy, mind-your-own-business, atmosphere. Usually if anyone approached him they were easily brushed off. If that didn't work and they were looking for a fight, he was always happy to oblige.  
  
He had discovered an unintended plus to this new habit. Overheard gossip. This latest disaster hitting Gotham was making people talk. Dawdling over a drink or two for an hour usually got him an earful. After that he'd stop listening and concentrate on the real reason he had come to the place.   
  
He had learned there was uneasiness in Gotham that spanned from the lowliest citizen to the most elite. Not fear, which would be understandable considering the erratic, anticipated nature of the phenom. That wasn't newsflash material. What kept him tuning in were all the different opinions being shaped around the cause of the phenom. Wild theories that involved anything from global warming, to Mad Stan concocting some profound new way of seeking retaliation against authority, to residual radiation poisoning from that last big battle between Blight and Batman.  
  
It always surprised him when he heard someone mention Batman. Even more revealing was how often that name was spoken along with tones of regret or resentment at having been abandoned by the hero. Each time, Terry was compelled to rethink what impact he had on Gotham as Batman. Sometimes to the point where getting completely inebriated was the only way to get him to stop the debate in his head.  
  
At this moment he was long past the listening phase and deep into the 'I feel nothing for I am at the peak of my alcohol induced high.' phase.   
  
He did a double-take at the person who sat down beside him. Feeling too good at the moment to get angry, Terry grinned crookedly at the man who had monopolized all of Max's affections. "Wha' the hell....What're you do'in here?"  
  
Travis finished ordering a drink before returning a smile. "I followed you."  
  
"Must'uv...cause even I didn't know I was com'in here." Terry laughed as if what he had just said was hilarious.   
  
"Nice to see you happy."  
  
"Happy? I'm hap, hap, happy? Well thanks for tell'in me buddy cause I never woulda guessed." He jovially slapped Travis on the back for emphasis. "So... whad'about you? You happy? Should be. Riiighttt? You're the one who got the girl.....oh..uh...I mean woman! Max'is no...girl!" Terry's face puckered into distaste with the word. He hunkered over his drink, shaking his head and mumbling, "No, no, nope. Nod'a girl at'tall."   
  
Travis shifted on his stool and mused on Terry's declaration. Max being his girl was news to him, though he'd like to believe it could happen some day. He picked up his newly placed bottle of beer and tipped it in Terry's direction, "You're right. She's all woman."   
  
Terry lifted his glass in agreement and in unison they drank.  
  
Travis asked casually, "Max says you two have been friends for a long time. When did you first meet?"  
  
Terry 'humphed'and curled his hands more protectively around his drink. He shifted away slightly, nearest shoulder now blocking Travis out of his view.   
  
Taking the hint, Travis backed off on the intent to make conversation. Silently he nursed his own drink while taking in the surroundings. The place smelled--used. An aged wood odor commingled with scents of alcohol, sweaty bodies and odors from the various human body orifices. Most of the clientele were at least a decade or more old than he and Terry. Most were dressed in rumpled, moderate clothing. He was surprised how comfortable he felt here while outside when he was trailing Terry he'd had to deal with the eerie vibes of being in unsafe territory. Unlike Terry, he wasn't looking for confrontations.  
  
Suddenly Terry was tilting towards him and murmuring with an air of confidentiality, "She used to have pink hair. She ever tell you that?"   
  
A gust of alcohol-laden breath wafted into Travis' face, making his eyes sting. "Ah..." Travis blinked cleansing tears away. "No, she hasn't. Pink?"  
  
"Yep," Terry worked hard to enunciate the slurring words, spittle flying outwards with each 'p' pronounced. "Hot, eye-popp'in pink."  
  
Travis blinked some more, backing away from the onslaught and wiping the spatter from various parts of his face "Oh, heh... got any pictures of that?"  
  
"Look'it her high school vids. Senior year'specially."  
  
"I'll have to do that."  
  
Background noise from the barroom filled the long silence between them. Travis amused himself by wondering what Max looked like with pink hair and how he would tease her about it. He was startled when Terry spoke again.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Why're you follow'in me?"  
  
"Oh. Max. She's concerned. Thinks you might be losing it."  
  
"Huh... I got noth'in left to lose," Terry grunted and rubbed a hand irritably across his eyes. He managed a side-long glance at Travis and grumbled. "Don't you have someplace else to be? Like a job in the ole' hometown that needs your attention?"  
  
"You trying to get rid of me?"  
  
"Yeah, thas' right. Go back to your cows where you belong."  
  
"Steers."  
  
"Wha...?" Terry squinted at Travis in confusion.  
  
"Castrated male bovines are called steers. Cows are mother bovines. I wrestle steers not cows."  
  
"Yeah…well. Cows, steers, whatever...they all got four hooves and moo don't they?"  
  
"Actually they make more of a bellowing sound."  
  
"Wha...?"  
  
"I don't know who came up with that mooing thing. They don't sound like that."  
  
"Wha...?" Terry gave him a cross-eyed, wilting look, "Do we really care?'  
  
"Sure. Hey--did you ever see that ancient classic movie, Star Wars? Cattle make a noise a lot like that character Chewie in the movie, especially when they get upset about something."  
  
Travis grinned while Terry gaped uncomprehending at him with glazed eyes.   
  
Terry finally shook himself and mumbled before finishing the last of his drink, "Huh... you'd know better'n me about that."  
  
"You like being alone."  
  
"Wha..?"  
  
"You're always keeping your own company. Must like it."  
  
Terry swiveled to face him. Dark brows narrowed over suddenly sobered eyes.   
  
Sensing he might be in real danger, Travis sat up straighter on his stool and brought palms up in entreaty as Terry bent menacing towards him. He let out soft chuckle and kept his deep voice subdued,  
  
"Easy pard. I didn't mean anything by that. Just an observation."  
  
"I'm not your pard." Terry growled. "An' yeah. I like be'in alone. So get lo---"   
  
A flash of color jerked Terry's attention away from Travis. A short, barrel-shaped man flanked by two taller men covered in identical purple uniforms was being forcibly escorted from a backroom of the bar towards the front exit. Recognition of all three, threw Terry's alcohol flooded mind into a crazy spin. Hey! That was Vinnie Wardo. And two of Al Ghul's zombies. Together?  
  
There was something significant about the combination, but his fogged brain wasn't letting the revelation become clear. All that came through at the moment was that he hated these particular dregs with a passion and wanted to give them an earful and preferably, fistful of his true feelings. Why he hated them wasn't clear either.  
  
Hey... They were still hurrying away. Why weren't they waiting for him? Stupid dregs! Stop!  
  
Terry flung an arm in their direction, "Hey…hey!" If he could just stall them until he got his butt off this stool. A vague awareness that he was tripping on the leg of his own barstool followed Terry all the way down to the hardwood floor.   
  
Startled, Travis watched Terry fling himself from his seat and fall flat-faced to the ground. He stifled an eruption of laughter while scrambling from his seat to help Terry up. Nearby patrons, who weren't worried about sparing feelings, voiced loud amusement.   
  
Travis steadied Terry's wobbly stand, remarking wryly, "That first step is a doozey sometimes ain't it?"  
  
Terry growled and shoved Travis out of his way. "Where'd they go? Did you see? Where--?" He made a staggered, three hundred sixty-degree pivot looking for his lost targets. Clearly frustrated he grabbed a fistful of Travis' shirtfront and demanded to his face, "Did you see 'em? Did you see where they went?"  
  
"See who?" Travis demanded, fast losing patience with Terry's behavior.  
  
"Weasel an…an…Beaver."  
  
"A weasel and a beaver," he repeated carefully, pulling Terry's hand from his shirt  
  
"Yeah--yeah."  
  
"What would--?" Travis gave his head a sharp shake. Why was he trying to make sense of someone's drunken hallucinations? Because Max really cared about this guy and maybe he'd stay on her good side if he played along. "Okay. Are they the bar mascots? Is that why you want me looking for a beaver and a weasel?"  
  
"No..no! They're people. Zombies!"  
  
"Okay. I'm really confused now. Are we looking for little furry animals or zombies or both?"  
  
"Aw…no…no that's not…." Terry groaned and scrubbed his face with both hands. Dim alarms in his muddled mind warning him that maybe he shouldn't be mentioning Batman related stuff to this man was making any lucid thought impossible. Hell--what did rodents and zombies have to do with Batman anyway? Well--there was some kind of connection-- Aw--don't even try. Time to go home and sleep this one off. If he could just remember how to get there.  
  
"How about I take you home Terry? That is--if you've had enough for tonight. My car is outside."  
  
Terry cast a bleary gaze around the bar before acknowledging Travis' question with a swaying nod. "Yeah. Tha…That'd be…good idea. But I…I really saw 'em. Right… over there."  
  
"Sure you did." Travis agreed before carefully urging him towards the exit. "And next time you come they'll probably be here too."  
  
Terry craned his head around to give Travis a confused look before stepping outside and bumbling down the single concrete step strategically placed at the door entrance. He smacked Travis' helping hands away, staggered back to his feet alone and declared righteously, "That step wasn't there when I came in."  
  
"No, of course not." Travis' placatory tone was accented with a grin. "They must have formed and poured it after you went inside."  
  
"Yeah…must've." Terry mumbled, his expression going vacant as he wondered at the logic of Travis' statement.   
  
"Come on Terry." Travis nudged Terry from his stupor. "The car's this way."  
  
****** 


	24. Chapter 22

The mansion was quiet when Terry stumbled into it. No Ace to greet him. It followed that the dog was down in the cave with his master. And since Tim's piece of junk he called a car was out front, he assumed Bruce had human company as well.   
  
He tramped upstairs to his bedroom.  
  
He knew Max was down there too. Every night for the past couple weeks. She kept her rented car discreetly placed away from the front entrance. Good thing. Otherwise her--country bumpkin lover-- would have noticed and asked an obvious question.  
  
Feeling angry, Terry tugged his coat off and whipped it into a corner of his room. He didn't like that she was here all the time. Knowing she was here, knowing that all three were working together trying to outwit Al Ghul's plans and knowing deep down he should be involved drove him away from this place and into the short-lived security of alcohol.  
  
He flopped back onto the king-sized bed and let himself drift further into the effects of the booze coursing through him. Visions of Max began to crowd his half-sleep which led to panicky thoughts that had him bolting upright.  
  
He stumbled over to a window, rammed it open and desperately sucked in the cool night air.   
  
He didn't want to go to sleep cause he knew what would happen. Very unpleasant dreams. This was all Whitfield's fault. Damn interloper. Got his mind dwelling on Max again. Never a good thing to do before falling asleep after getting sloshed. And seeing Weasel and Beaver tonight meant those dreams would be even more--imaginative.  
  
The fresh air helped for awhile, but before long Terry succumbed to the lure of the bed. He stripped down to his underwear, crawled onto the mattress and gave in to weakness once more.  
  
*******************  
  
Max trudged up the cave steps, switching off the main lights just before making the step from batcave to mansion library. These half-nighters she'd been pulling with Bruce and sometimes Tim in the cave were starting to wear her down. It had been months since her body had been accustomed to existing on a few hours of sleep per day and it was beginning to protest the abuse. At the moment she felt like a wrung out washcloth ready to drop into a heap on the floor.  
  
All the efforts to find what Al Guhl was doing to the city were leading them to inconclusive dead ends. They needed more data. In the past, Batman would have been sent out to investigate possible scenarios, quickly and unobtrusively. That option no longer existed.   
  
For the longest time Max had convinced herself that Terry giving up Batman was best for all of them. The rationale had certainly eased her guilt about leaving. And realistically, Bruce's age would eventually have prevented him from continuing his role as Batman's mentor/backup. That would have left Terry alone on the vigilante crusade, which had negative connotations all its own.  
  
Good, sound logic right? So weeks later, into the no longer hypothetical situation, why did she realize she had been wrong? Pretty simple. Here she was doing the usual detective backup work alongside Bruce who had not slacked off one iota on his life-long, self-inflicted duties to protect Gotham. And Terry... Terry was more unsettled and reckless than she had ever seen him as Batman.   
  
So much for happy endings.  
  
Max sighed audibly as she walked toward the looming front door of the mansion. She wasn't looking forward to the thirty minute drive to her apartment, but the soft comfort of a waiting bed at the end of the journey was incentive to keep going. Her arm reached out to the door latch, then halted in mid-air as an eerie sound edged the nighttime silence of the house.   
  
Hairs along the nape of her neck rose in response. She tensed, waiting for more. It came again. Different. Harsher sounding even though it was muffled by distance.   
  
Max immediately targeted the upper levels. A feeling of dread had her climbing the spiral staircase at a rapid pace.  
  
The sound had faded away, leaving her standing uncertain on the stairway landing. Terry slept in the area where the sound seemed to have been coming from. Bruce had mentioned that Terry had been having some wild nightmares since his captivity. Was that what--?   
  
Her insides clenched as the sound repeated, much clearer and stronger at this proximity. She wondered what horror he was dreaming to let a wail like that out. An instinctual need to end his pain had Max hurrying onward down the dark corridor.  
  
**  
  
A soft whine and clawed paw scratching insistently against his arm woke Bruce from sound sleep. Instantly alert, he heard the distant cry that was bothering Ace. It was Terry having one of those particularly bad nightmares again. He hadn't had any since Max returned. Too bad the interlude couldn't have lasted longer.   
  
Nightmares were familiar territory for Bruce. Since his parents had been killed they had become an intimate part of his existence. He had learned to deal with them like he did everything else in his life. By controlling them with iron-hard determination. He still had them, but rarely let them be released in the manner Terry was experiencing right now. That was a weakness he fought hard against allowing.   
  
He cringed as another of Terry's desolate cries echoed in the long hallway outside this room. Ace whimpered and gazed expectantly at him.   
  
"Okay boy. We'll go wake him."  
  
Ace woofed and wagged his stub of a tail before running to stand tense beside the bedroom door.  
  
Feeling every worn joint in his body, Bruce rose stiffly from the bed. He wrapped a robe around himself and shuffled towards the door where Ace was waiting. A soft reminder for the big dog to heel was issued before Bruce opened the door. In step, they rounded the corner which would take them to Terry's section of rooms. A faint scent of familiar perfume hanging in the air had Bruce scanning the space ahead. He wasn't surprised to see Max at the far end of the hall, poised beside Terry's bedroom door.  
  
  
  
Quickly he faded back around the corner with a soft command for the anxious animal at his heels. "Back Ace." He reached down to palm the broad head. "I don't think he needs us this time. Max will be able to do more for him than we ever could." His small smile twisted to a wry frown, "I hope."  
  
With a final forlorn peek down the hallway, Ace turned to follow his master back into their room.  
  
**  
  
Though the strangled shouts had ceased abruptly she could still hear harsh, shaky breathing through the bedroom's cracked open door. Concern propelled her to push the door further ajar and step inside.   
  
Moonlight from an opened window shone across the room and over Terry sitting up on the bed. He was half-turned in the window's direction, back towards her. Her side-view registered his head tipped up, mouth open, hair a disheveled sculpture in the darkness. His hands clutched and released the sheets in sync with his unsteady breathing. Shadows outlined the deep curves of his muscled back and heaving chest. Glistening sweat highlighted their raised surfaces.   
  
Max took a step inside the room. Something kept her moving closer to him. She could have alerted him to her presence at the door. Why didn't she? Why did she have to be so close to him before she spoke?  
  
She felt a soft breeze come through the open window. The scent of earth and green-growing life wafted in the air between them, triggering an unexplored elemental emotion deep inside. It gave her a strange sort of courage. The strength to believe that things could always change for the better if she kept trying.  
  
Close enough to reach out and touch him, Max hesitated. Finally she murmured in the tense stillness,  
  
"Terr?"  
  
His head jerked in her direction, eyes wide in surprise.   
  
Max's husky voice trembled with uncertainty, "You all right?"  
  
He stared at her without blinking. Max froze. The intensity in his eyes made her feel like a nocturnal animal caught in a sudden glare of light. Her mind refused to move on to its next thought. Every erg of her being waited for him to move first and break the spell.  
  
He did move. One arm slowly reaching out, hand circling around her forearm, pulling and urging her firmly down beside him. Max could not unlock her gaze from his. She became aware of warmth from his heated body, the smell of sweat and stronger masculine odor traced with scents of soap and alcohol.  
  
His hands gripped both her arms, squaring her in front of him. The mesmerizing blue of his eyes held her enthralled as they seemed to bore inside her, searching/longing for something she didn't understand. His hoarse, anxious words confused her even more.  
  
"He's wrong. I don't need you." Strong hands slid up to her shoulders, squeezing them in a possessive grip.   
  
Trapped helplessly in his raw emotion, Max felt her pulse quicken, breaths increasing to match his.   
  
His words were whispered and ragged, head shaking slowly back and forth, eyes never leaving hers. "I don't need you. I don't... need you. I don't..."  
  
Unsure, Max shook her head in unison, murmuring trembling agreement. "No... no you don't. You don't need me... Terry..." Her hands came around to clasp his arms. Fingers began rhythmic stroking to counter his, almost painful, convulsive massage of her shoulders. "It's okay... shhh... it's okay..."  
  
"Max?" His expression and voice reflected surprise that she was not only here, but reaching out to comfort him.   
  
"I'm here." She crooned, wanting to ease his apparent distress. Longing for him to be whole again. Not the aimless, bereft man he had become. "I'm here for you Terr. You know I always have been."  
  
His clammy palms tenderly cupped her face, "You love me Max." The assured revelation was overlaid with caution. "Admit it," his eyes and right hand stroked the curve of one cheek, "That's why you stayed," left hand stroked the other. "That's why you came back," then both hands together, fingers continuing on to burn a trail down the curves of her neck and settle restlessly on her shoulders once more. "That's why you're here now."  
  
Sensations stirring within left her breathless. "Terry... don't..."  
  
Max..." Desperation hung in his words. "Say it. Tell me the one thing I believe in is true."  
  
Max bowed her head, the effort to pull away from his pleading gaze was monumental. She had freely given her heart and soul to him long ago. If that was love--then, yes, it was true. But now he wanted more from her. He wanted the words spoken and after that, the only thing she had left to offer him--was her body. Two simple things when compared with the complexities of the heart and soul. Two actions which she had withheld because she needed some kind of shield, thin though they were, for protection from the pain that would come if he was ever taken from her.   
  
  
  
The gentle touch of his hand came to cup her chin and lift her face to his. "Max..."   
  
The husky word rumbled from deep in his chest, its vibrations reaching out to nuzzle her hesitant heart. It responded with a painful lurch. A small gasp expelled from her lips, an anguished thought from her mind. 'I can't do this anymore. God help me. I can't--' Closing eyes tight to stop hot tears, Max leaned into his caress and surrendered to what she didn't want to fight any more. "Yes," a sharp sob followed the word. "Damn you... yes."  
  
She felt the tension drain from him, his hands gentling where they lay on her shoulders. His warm breaths puffed lightly against her face as he moved closer. His lips brushed soft beneath her eyes, lifting the tears away.   
  
Max was drawn into his strong embrace; chest to chest, the powerful beat of his heart colliding with hers. She heard his whispered words close to her ear, heavy with regret and relief and tumbling out with increasing urgency.   
  
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry Max. So sorry for everything... everything I've done to... to you and... and I just... I didn't know what... how to deal with... with this stuff in my head. I... I can't seem to... to... I... It doesn't make sense to me how... how..."  
  
Words choked in his throat. Body trembling, he pressed his face against her shoulder and neck. Warm moisture seeped through there. She felt its touch on her skin.   
  
Realization that he was crying triggered desperation inside her. Who would be the calm, sensible, strong one? Who would be the one to manage a rescue if they were both emotional wrecks? She didn't have an answer. All she could do was wrap her arms tight around his body and never let go. Her only rational thought being; if they were going to drown in this sea of anguish, they'd do it together.  
  
*****  
  
Hushed. Scent of moisture drifted in on the slight breeze entering the room. Rain pattered gently on the outside panes. The cooler air tingled against their warmly wrapped bodies. They parted slowly, reluctant to let go of the shared heat and touch.   
  
Max looked at him with softness in her eyes and smile. She reached up impulsively to stroke the bearded surface of his cheeks. Eyes sparkling with delight she murmured.  
  
"It's a lot softer than it looks."  
  
"You like it?"  
  
"I haven't decided yet." She tipped her head in curiosity. "Why'd you grow it?"  
  
"Not sure really. Maybe I thought I could... hide behind it?" He finished on a wistful note and embarrassed grin.  
  
"That." Max nodded understanding. "And the booze… and the anger… and the job?"  
  
He released a resigned sign, head bowing. "I guess."  
  
Her hands palmed his face again, lifting it. Her eyes drew in his wavering gaze and held it. Her husky, silken voice was assured. "You're going to be okay."  
  
Terry's "Thank you," was inaudible, but Max saw the strong emotion in his eyes.  
  
She smiled and let her fingers stroke the bearded jaw once more before dropping her hands. Terry reached out to grasp them, enfolding the slim digits firmly with his own. He lifted them gently to his mouth.   
  
A frightening thrill tingled through Max at the feel of his lips pressed against her fingers. She found herself caught in his emotion once more, the expression in his blue eyes demanding yet unsure. Commonsense told her to pull away, that there were good reasons why their relationship shouldn't go any further. Something else was telling her not to stop, that this was meant to be.   
  
Long association with one of the mentally strongest, most disciplined men she would probably ever know in her lifetime gave Max the impetus to pull away from Terry. Imagining Bruce's disapproval gave her the strength.   
  
But then Terry had to go and whisper two little words, with that little hitch in his voice and her resolve turned to empathic mush.  
  
"Don't go."   
  
She let her eyes lock with his. Their gaze seamlessly melded into wordless understanding.   
  
They had shared years of wanting and denial. They had been side by side yet distant. Their mutual realization had been held in check by fear and uncertainty. None of it mattered anymore. It all melted away this moment.   
  
Overwhelming desire brought their lips together.   
  
Their bodies.   
  
Their souls.   
  
No thoughts of the past or future. No more doubts.   
  
Just this simple, timeless moment.   
  
Shared.  
  
***************  
  
A million, billion THANK YOUS!! to all your words of encouragement and praise! I know the long intervals between updates is not a good thing, but this story is being inspired seventy percent by you and thirty percent by my vow to finish this 'monster' no matter how long it takes.   
  
I've been reading a lot of writing books to get my creative impulses flowing again. They're helping and I BELIEVE I'll get there eventually. I wish you Peace and much happiness for the new year!! 


	25. Chapter 23

_My apologies for taking so long to update. My mind simply blanked whenever I tried pushing to finish this story...so I stopped trying and it slowly started to fill again. One BIG reason I'm able to post this is because of the generous encouragement and help from my BB Bud, Marns also known as Bumpkin. If you end up enjoying this chapter, be sure to give her half the credit!_

STUMBLING TOWARDS DESTINY

Part Three

"Ms. Gibson?"

Longtime WayneTech receptionist, Nadine, stopped Max on her way to Terry's office. The uncharacteristic flustered expression on the older woman's face triggered concern in Max.

"A problem Nadine?"

"Well, I'm not sure. I just thought I should warn you--Mr. McGinnis is acting strangely this morning."

"Why do you say that?" The query came out calm, but Max's thoughts were heading in another direction. What now? There had been plenty of mornings she'd seen him nursing a hangover, but would he actually have -come- to work drunk?

"This is going to sound silly, but..." she touched manicured fingers to her lips nervously and glanced at Terry's office door. "He said 'good morning' to me and...." Leaning towards Max she finished in an awed murmur. "Actually smiled."

From the shock Nadine was showing, Max thought she might have been telling her that the sun had rose in the west instead of the east this morning. Keeping relief and amusement to a smile Max answered,

"Let's assume it's a good sign. Nevertheless, I'll be extra careful going in."

Nadine nodded encouragement and crossed her legs and fingers as she watched Max enter the office.

Max felt a mixture of dread and excitement as she stepped into the room. It had been two days apart since she and Terry had---been together. Time enough to run everything that had happened through her mind until it had become a jumbled mess of emotionally charged issues. It was wrong. It was right. It was inevitable. I should have stopped it. He needed me. He could have found someone else. But... I love him. Oh...okay. So... what about Travis? What about the future? What if Terry expects-- Stop!

She angrily shook the thoughts away. Just concentrate on the job you're here to do. Keep emotions out of it. You're a 'first level technical assistant' (She smirked at the stilted title. Bruce's idea.) You're a professional. Act like it.

The hard-won mindset was flung into oblivion as she was grabbed suddenly from her right and pulled against a hard male body. Very hard....ohh.

A flash of white teeth in a bearded face and laughing blue eyes was all she saw before soft exploring lips and tongue locked with her own. Mindless, pleasured sensation left her weak-kneed and clinging to business suit covered, muscle padded shoulders.

"Terr..." Max inhaled a desperate gulp of air and pushed away to gain the return of her wits. Why was she letting him do this to her? "You shouldn't..." She exhaled, struggling to find words to finish her train of thought.

"Shouldn't what?" He grinned, enjoying the sight of the stoic Max Gibson all flustered. "Grab you? Kiss you?" Impatient hands reached out to caress along her arms. "Make wild passionate love to you like I really..." his voice got husky. "... really want to do right now?"

"Um... no...you..." she disentangled her arms from his. "You don't want to do that."

"Umm...yes I do," he murmured, seduction in his tone.

"Damn." Max muttered, a hand going up to shield her eyes. He was sending her his patented 'look' at heart-melting intensity. Why couldn't he have Bruce's 'look'? It was so much easier dealing with disgust than desire.

"What's wrong Max?"

"This, I... wasn't expecting this."

"After what happened I thought maybe..." The grim look on her face made him abandon speaking the rest of his thought. She was shaking her head.

"I've been thinking too, but this isn't the time or place to discuss it."

"You left before we had a chance to talk. I just wanted--"

"Terry," the tautness of anger filled Max's voice. "I don't wa--"

"Okay." He backed off, becoming all businesslike. "I can wait. But just know this. What happened between us has changed everything for me. Whether you feel the same or not won't affect that."

Blocking her riled emotions, Max forced herself to observe him objectively. There _was_ something different about him and it was more than the lively, clear eyes fixed in her direction. Eyes that were usually clouded and unfocused from not having completely recovered from a weekend of boozing. There was a different aura around him. No. Not different. More like--Terry's old aura returned and--enhanced by anticipation and excitement and--hope? All that because of--

"Max?"

"Huh?"

"You're staring. Do I have something gross stuck in my beard?" He swept fingers through chin hair then looked for residue on the hand.

"Ah--no--" Max blinked and shook her head a little to force contemplation away. "You-- It looks fine."

Terry smiled. It slowly pulled up the contours of his handsome face and drew her gaze naturally to his eyes which were filled with warmth and knowing and tender emotion---all just for her?

That's when she became scared.

She didn't want to be responsible for his happiness and she didn't like knowing that being in his life was the only thing that made her feel complete. It wasn't right!

Max scowled and huffed loudly, "I think we have more important things to do besides standing here like idiots. How about we get to work."

Terry watched as she stalked past him to take her usual seat beside his desk. He frowned. Though he hadn't expected her to get all mushy over him, he had hoped she would be more amiable to his advances considering what they had experienced together.

He shrugged inwardly. She probably needed more time. The ice had broken between them, but it may take awhile before she'd melt in his arms. Heh. He just had to be patient. He'd waited this long for her, he could wait a little longer.

Despite the sight of Max's crossed leg jerking an irritated rhythm , he was determined to make this an all-around good day for both of them. Summoning the return of his happy mood, Terry walked to his desk.

* * *

"**Elusive Phenom Chased by Suicidal Seekers! Look inside to see exclusive ****footage caught by determined chaser before he collapses--another victim of the horrendous entity laying waste to Gotham!"**

Barbara tossed the paper aside and flopped back in her chair with an exasperated sigh. The pictures in the entertainment tabloid were nothing but blurs, useless for revealing clues of the nature of the phenom. The fact that she even looked was a sign of how desperate she had become to find an answer. There was no escape from the 'horrendous entity' that was encompassing every waking moment of her existence. Even if she could isolate herself off-duty in her own home, her mind wouldn't let her.

"What's wrong hon?" her attentive husband queried where he sat nearby reading. "Fiction getting too close to fact?"

She frowned as she faced him, "We've been getting reports of lights in the sky now wherever the phenom hits. So, what do lights have to do with people dropping and dying from getting too weak?"

Her mate was a practical man, experienced in dealing with manmade laws and the people who had a hard time abiding by them. Sam was not inclined towards scientific theorizing, satisfied that his faith was answer enough for understanding the physical world he existed in. After many years of marriage Barbara was aware of this, so she didn't really expect an answer from him. She just wanted him to listen and that's one reason why she knew he truly loved her, because he _always_ listened to her. Looking thoughtful he lifted his shoulders in a shrug she had never seen another human being do so eloquently and replied softly,

"I don't know."

"We've got scientific teams set-up and ready to go mobile in minutes after the effects of the phenom are noted, but it's usually gone by the time they get there. We can't know what it is and how to combat it until we have a chance to study it. Its frustrating Sam, and it's driving me crazy!"

He favored her with a sympathetic smile and went to stand behind her chair, his large hands kneading a relaxing rhythm into her tight shoulder muscles. Barbara expelled a relieved grunt at his touch and relaxed slowly from his ministrations. She couldn't help but grin at his reassuring tone and carefully chosen words,

"Crazy is one thing you will never be Barb. Obsessive-- yes. Dedicated to the point of martyrdom--sometimes. But losing touch with the marvelous complexity inside that beautiful head of yours--not a chance."

She felt a little teary eyed. His continued faith in her after all these years still left her amazed. She reached back to grip his hands where they lay on her shoulders,

"Have I told you lately how much I love you?"

Sam leaned over, pressing his cheek to hers, "I love you too."

He resumed the massaging, his tone taking on the gentle lecturing quality he used often in his career, "You're not in this alone you know."

"I know. I thought calling in outside help would have had an impact on the situation by now. Mostly all its done is tie our hands with more red tape."

"That's expected and I'm sure they've had more impact on the problem than you're giving them credit for."

"Maybe."

"Of course, working outside of standard procedure often produces more effective results. I've been thinking lately how unfortunate it is that your pointy-eared friend is no longer around. I'm sure you'll correct me if I'm wrong hon, but though you didn't always approve of his ways, I think you found his help useful at times."

Barbara craned her head around to stare at him. Not for the first time she wondered if he could read her mind because that's exactly what she had been thinking. Sam grinned innocently. She frowned and settled back in the chair admitting reluctantly, "Maybe...occasionally."

It wasn't the first time in the last few weeks that she wished Batman and his unconventional ways of investigating were still an option she could go to in situations like this. She knew Bruce, Tim and Max were doing their best to help, but without Terry in the suit it was like they were searching for answers without arms or legs to help explore possibilities. And the last verbal report she'd gotten from Tim on Terry's mental state indicated the young man had a long way to go to return to his past good-natured demeanor. Chances of him returning to the cowl were slim to none.

She let her body relax and her mind forget for a few minutes everything but the massaging touch of her loving husband's hands. Right now that was about the only thing that she could do.

* * *

Terry skillfully guided the car into a space between two other parked vehicles. He silenced the powerful engine and sat quietly staring out at the line of business signs lighting up the night that had descended on this particular Gotham street.

It had been almost two weeks since he last had a drink. He'd never forget the incident that gave him the motivation to stay away from the booze. Him and Max. Together. At last. Plus--she'd admitted she loved him. He had to acknowledge though, that something really was lost when he'd had to basically beg to get the revelation out of her.

He tried to dismiss the doubts he felt, didn't matter....or did it? Yeah-- Max had said she loved him, but she always had in some form or another since high school he realized belatedly. So why, now that things were all said and done, was she acting so weird around him? If he didn't know better he'd swear that it was almost as if she was afraid of him. Odd behavior from someone who'd said they loved you.

Terry looked around at the dingy street. Was that why he had come here? Because Max had him more confused than ever? Since that yawning hollow deep inside him that she had filled for a while felt empty again? Yeah, that could be it--that and the fact that nothing else had changed since then either. Work was still as aggravating as ever and the situation plaguing Gotham had gotten worse. Both, he knew, were partly because of him.

Terry physically shook himself to try flinging the negative emotions away. It didn't work.

He licked at dried lips, his mouth already salivating at what awaited him in the building across the street, gaudily flashing the name, "G.C.'s PUB HUB".

He'd just have one. Just one drink to help him relax and get his mind off of---things. Only one. With a nod of agreement to himself, Terry exited the car.

He ignored the tiny voice in the background asking---"Why do you need to come all the way over to this seedy neighborhood for _just one _drink when you could easily have gotten _one_ at the office or at home or over at Howie's Place?

Another, less audible voice, answered with wry disgust-- "What! You think he wants anyone he knows seeing him drinking which _we know_ will end up being more than one?"

An even smaller voice shouted out the helpful advice-- "Forget the alcohol! Have a banana instead!"

He scratched his head, 'Geez, how many other annoying voices were hiding in there? If he didn't really need a drink before, he had a good excuse now.'

He closed the car door. Leaning against it, he scanned the area with a practiced eye before pushing off to go inside the bar nearest to where he had parked. Another voice sounded in his mind and stopped him mid-stride. The word it spoke made his insides clench in surprise.

"Batman."

Now why would he be startled by a voice in his own head? Other than the fact there were altogether too many in there, came the wry observation. He just might have to commit himself if this kept up. It spoke again and he happily realized it wasn't coming from him.

He turned in the direction he thought he had heard the voice, sighting a familiar ghostly form shimmering in the darkness between streetlights. His tension eased and his heart and lungs started to work again.

"Tamara," he called out softly and took steps towards where she hovered in front of the car. "How are you?"

Passersby spared him mildly curious glances. They were used to seeing strange behavior in this neighborhood. Someone talking to nothing but the air in front of him was not that unusual.

Tamara's form rippled faster and Terry got the impression she was agitated. She ignored his question, instead blurting out with censure,

"I've wanted to talk to you for a long time, but I could never reach you. I...I can't do it when you're mind is confused. And it's been that way for so long."

"Ah, yeah," he let go a self-conscious laugh. No sense trying to hide the truth from her. She already knew too much about him. "I guess alcohol has a way of messing up a head."

Her form rippled again as she threw up her hands in a gesture of aggravation, "You know that and yet you're going to start all over again?!"

"Hey, take it easy. We're connecting now. Isn't that what counts?"

"But you intend to do it again."

Terry felt more than heard the condemnation in her words, but he wasn't going to let this child make him angry. He had better control than that. After taking a deep breath and holding it for a moment he replied with forced calm, "If I do, it shouldn't matter to you."

"It does matter! Why don't you understand? You're Batman!"

"Not anymore!"

Her righteous anger was triggering his own. He could barely believe he was matching glares with the ghost of a twelve-year-old and it was taking major effort to not look away.

Tamara backed down first, dropping her gaze. She couldn't keep looking at the raw pain reflected in those ice blue orbs. This wasn't a fight she could afford to lose though. She had to let Batman know what was at stake. Looking up, she met his eyes and spoke soft words that gradually built in intensity.

"I know how badly he hurt you. I've felt your...sorrows. But you must know you're not the only one who is suffering. You're not the only one the Master has injured and so many more will die before he's through! I can't wat--" Her face contorted with emotion as she covered it with her hands.

Terry knew she was crying, even without seeing her thin body shaking with sobs or hearing the sounds. It was almost as if he could sense her sadness. Maybe that's all their communication amounted to. Total mental sensory perception through this crazy connection they had made years ago. That made sense why no one but him could see or hear her.

Feeling like the full-fledged slimeball he knew he had become, Terry sought to ease her unhappiness. She reminded him of Matt in his younger days. A time before the little twip started to hate his big brother.

He felt a familiar guilt in the pit of his stomach. That was something else he really needed to work on--the sibling bond that was close to snapping completely.

There were a couple of occasions when Matt had needed reassurances, a hug and some comforting words and Terry had been able to give them. Heck, he had actually felt happy about doing it. He had never completely shaken the guilt that maybe Warren would still be alive if his rebellious son had stayed to take his grounding that night. He owed Matt. Being there for him was fulfilling a fatherly duty that their father, if he were still alive, would have done.

Terry mentally shook himself. No sense going there anymore. That guilt had already been milked for all it was worth and it wouldn't help Tamara or anyone else.

Tamara still needed comforting, but all he could do was use words since there was no real body to touch. Despite that knowledge he instinctively moved closer to her.

"I'm sorry," he offered gently. One of his hands reached out with a soothing touch for her shimmering form before he could stop it. "I know it must be hard for you."

"I don't want to do this anymore," she blubbered. "I want my Mom and Dad."

His heart wrenched at the childish cry. Exasperated by his inability to help her, Terry heaved a sigh and ran both hands through his hair. He wasn't used to feeling so helpless, except when it came to himself. "Where are you Tamara? Where is Ra's? Tell me so I can contact the police and--"

"No!" Her head came up, wet eyes wide with horror. "He'll hurt my parents."

"Right." Terry nodded understanding, wanting to slap himself in the head. How could he have forgotten that fact even for a moment? It was knowledge Tamara hadn't stopped thinking about for months. And his own memories as Ra's captive should have been even more of an incentive to keep him from forgetting that her parents were in trouble. "So we'll get them out first. Do you know where they are?"

She sniffled between sobs and shook her head.

Slaggit...that made things more difficult.

After considering other possibilities, he frowned and asked, even though he already had an idea what her response would be. "Can't you talk to them like you talk to me?"

Tamara shook her head and sniffed some more, her tone rising in agitation, "I tried, but you're the only one I can do it with. I don't know why."

She couldn't connect with her own parents? Odd. You'd think, hereditarily speaking, she'd be able to do it with at least one of them. Unless...they weren't her biological parents. He filed those thoughts away for another time and blindly reassured her as best he could.

"That's okay. It's not your fault. I'm sure your parents know you're thinking about them. Do you have any ideas at all where Ra's might be keeping them?"

"I don't know where they are," she wailed like the child she was, then pulled herself together as something occurred to her. Wiping her tears away, she pulled back strands of long hair from her face and gestured to one side. "But he might."

An image of a short, heavyset man took shape beside her. Terry's eyes widened, a thrill of hope exciting him.

"I know him."

"He's a sad, little man." She commented in a subdued tone. "The Master has him doing many things that make him unhappy. But he's trapped like I am and...like you were."

Terry nodded somberly and replied, "His name is Vince Wardo. I've dealt with him before. He has a history of making the wrong choices. Maybe he'll learn from his mistake this time--if he lives through it."

"Yes," her voice shook and Terry gritted his teeth when he sensed she was crying again. "The Master has killed so many..."

"Hey-- it's going to be okay," he reassured her blindly again. "I'll find your parents and get them to a safe place where Ra's can't hurt them anymore."

"But--how can you? You said you're no longer Batman."

He grimaced, "Terry McGinnis is a pretty capable guy. Maybe he can get the job done."

Tamara tilted her head to study him, long hair rippling from the movement, "So that is who you are?"

"My name? Yeah. You're in my head. How could you not know that?"

"I told you a long time ago--I can't hear your thoughts."

That's right, she did. It irritated him that he was forgetting such basic issues. All that drinking must have killed more brain cells than he could afford to lose. Either that or wallowing in self-pity for so long had shut down any non-essential mind function outside of ego. It probably wasn't intentional, but Tamara was forcing him to look at himself from a different view and it rankled mightily.

"Guess only you'd know that," he remarked calmly and looked away from her. That's when he noticed a couple of poorly dressed citizens had settled themselves atop nearby vehicles and were observing him with amused expressions. On the sidewalk a small audience was growing

"You're getting angry again."

"Yes I am, but it has nothing to do with you." He riveted his attention back to her, "And would you stop doing that?"

"Stop?" Her long-lashed eyelids widened in confusion.

Terry nodded, "Stay out of my head unless you got a real important reason to be there?"

"Being--in your head-- is the only way we're able to do this at all. Do you want me to leave?"

"No. No I didn't mean it that way. I just-- Well, can you just not read--hear--ur-- feel my emotions so well?"

"Okay, I think I can do that."

"Thanks."

Tamara nodded. There was a short silence between them. Then she remarked cautiously, knowing what she was about to say was akin to 'being in his head' and he'd just made it clear she wasn't welcome there. But this had come to her long before now and he needed to hear it, "You won't allow yourself to feel it yet, but...you are stronger than you were before."

His only reaction was a frown of displeasure, "Well, you know what they say--anything that doesn't kill you, makes you stronger."

Emboldened by his lack of anger Tamara took her theory a step further, "Even if you deny the truth to yourself it won't change anything. You are as much--" She spoke the unfamiliar name haltingly. "Terry McGinnis as you are Batman. You always were. I knew that years ago when you first helped me. Do you really believe you did that just because of the costume you wore?"

Terry stared at her for a long time, but she felt no strong emotion from him.

"Okay," he shrugged finally. "Maybe you know me better than I know myself. I don't know. I'll think about it. In the meantime I'll get to your parents. You just hang in there a little longer."

Tamara hugged herself and smiled at him, "Thank you. And when you see them...would you tell them I love them?"

He smiled in return, "Count on it."

She raised a hand in farewell, her form gradually fading from his senses.

Terry blinked in surprise when he became aware of the crowd that had gathered around, all maintaining a wide distance from him. Many of them stepped back anxiously when he gazed at them. Others stared with expectant curiosity. He felt compelled to explain himself.

"Ah-- I um-- I was just.... communicating with the other side." He concluded with a tone of deep reverence, his head and hands lifting heavenward.

The reactions ranged from blank looks to skeptical headshakes to nods of understanding. One woman stepped out of the crowd towards him, a hand raised in entreaty,

"Please. My grandmother passed before I had a chance to tell her something. Could you--?"

An older man pushed past her, "Our daughter left home when she was thirteen. We never found her. Can you find out if--"

Terry hurriedly began backing to his car. "Um... sorry. This last session really drained me. Maybe next time."

He slipped inside, started the engine and very slowly, to evade the more eager witnesses to his 'performance' pulled out above the street. It wasn't until he was halfway home before he realized he never did get that _one_ drink. A small smile curled his mouth when he also realized he didn't want it anymore.

* * *

Bats in flight were the first signal, though it was a long time afterwards before he realized it as such. Bruce looked up from his station beside the computer. The whistling flutter as thousands of mammals fled, deafened the occupants of the cave to any other sounds in the area. He could feel the stirring of air against his skin as they moved and smell their distinctive odor. They had returned from their nightly forage for insects hours ago. It made no sense for them to leave now.

Soon after, Ace started pacing and whining. The big dog was used to the bats and unafraid of them. He wouldn't be upset by them. Something else was triggering his behavior. Bruce began lifting a hand to signal the animal when he realized he didn't have the strength to finish. It plopped back onto his lap. A sudden sensation of fatigue settled over his entire body. He fought the urge to give in to it, but lost and sat back wearily in the chair. A familiar pressure built in his chest. He forced his head to move and look over at Tim and Max who were both showing unconscious signs of uneasiness and fatigue. Tim was yawning and rubbing fiercely at his eyes. Max had buried her head within elbowed arms cocked on the table where she was working, both hands massaging at her temples.

Bruce suddenly realized they were in the grip of the phenom. He smiled grimly. 'Finally Ra's is doing something predictable. Wonder why it took him so long to target this place.'

Ignoring the protests of his body he concentrated on one compelling thought. This was a prime moment to explore details of the happening. With all the equipment available within the cave they could learn a lot.

Pushing aside weakness and ignoring the warning signs of a heart stressed beyond its limits, Bruce barked at Tim and Max.

"Wake up you two. We've got company."

They turn confused faces in his direction, eyes darting suspiciously around the cave.

"Outside." Bruce explains. "The phenom is here. Activate the external sensors. Let's get a detailed reading on what's out there."

They jump to his commands. Scientific data is gathered at a rapid pace.

Meanwhile they are all fighting the effects. Tim and Max can see the more vulnerable Bruce is being affected. He brushes off their voiced concerns, insisting they continue to collect data. They turn full attention to their monitors and become engrossed in the data being revealed.

In the few minutes they had been working, instruments show a large craft hovering far above the mansion.

"Someone needs to check it out," Bruce demanded breathlessly. "Get Terry down here. It's time for him to suit up again. There's no more time for him to waste!"

Tim and Max shared surprised glances before they hear a soft grunt from the elder and see him slump over the console, one hand pressed to his chest. In moments they were beside him and pushing his unconscious form back in the chair. Tim searched for a pulse and shook his head,

"Let's get him in the medbay."

Awkwardly they hoisted Bruce between them and hurried to the medical bay to place the limp form on a bed. They began first aid procedures to stabilize his condition which was deteriorating fast. As he worked with worried intensity, Tim realized they needed help.

"Get Terry down here. He needs to know what's happening."

"He went out earlier tonight." Max replied knowing Tim knew the import of that simple statement. "He might not be in any shape to help."

Tim scowled at the possibility as he struggled to find a workable vein in Bruce's arm to start an intravenous line, "Then get him sobered up and down here as fast as you can."

Max flew up the cave steps, hopping in place the few seconds it took for the cave/library door to slide open. Plunging through it she ran to and up the staircase that led to Terry's room. Praying his door wasn't locked she gripped the bronze knob and turned it. Soundlessly it rolled with the motion of her wrist. In the next moment she had slammed the door open and was shouting out his name.

"Terr! Oh---"

Max went speechless at the sight she beheld, although her mind was racing with some very complimentary thoughts. Terry was poised in surprise beside the bed, his naked torso built and buffed to near perfection and she couldn't help gaping at him for a moment despite the urgency filling her. A flush of pleasant sensations coursed through her along with the vivid memory of that body intimately caressing hers not so long ago. She felt an embarrassing erg of disappointment when he finally snatched the blanket from the bed to cover himself.

"Max..." Terry stifled a yawn and smiled, "This is an unexpected pleasure."

Max had to physically shake herself to get her mind back on track, blaming her adolescent reaction on fatigue.

"Bruce is in trouble. We need your help down in the cave."

"What happened?" he snapped while reaching for his pants at the end of the bed.. "What's wrong with him?"

She was gratified to see that Terry's response to the news was immediate, a good sign that he was not under the influence. She spun away as he dropped the bed covering to step into his bottoms. "Can't you feel it?"

She heard him mutter to himself , "That's why I can't keep my eyes open." Then a self-deprecating mutter about stupid brain cells before firmly answering her question, "The phenom. It's here."

"Right. And it's killing Bruce. We have to--"

"Go, go." Terry's hand was unexpectedly on her back and propelling her down the hallway. They ran through the mansion with Terry bounding ahead to open the cave entrance. Max watched with a measure of surprise how he didn't hesitate plunging into a place he'd avoided for months. He was at the bottom and heading to the medbay before she reached the halfway point on the steps.

She entered the medbay, feeling some relief at seeing Bruce conscious and talking to Terry who was leaning over his longtime mentor/friend/father-figure.

"Terry, it's time," his weak voice urged. "Gotham needs relief from this. Ra's needs to be stopped and Batman can do it."

Terry shook his head, "We're going to get you out of here, away from the influence of that thing. After that I--"

"No!" Bruce's gnarled hand gripped Terry's arm hard enough that she saw him wince slightly in surprise. "You'll do it now. Before it has a chance to disappear again."

Max wondered what silent communication they shared before Terry nodded, took the hand Bruce still had on his arm and squeezed it, "You hang in there old man. When I get back you and me are gonna have a talk."

Bruce harrumphed and closed his eyes, his body relaxing into unconsciousness once more. Terry placed the lax hand gently at Bruce's side and looked expectantly at Tim.

Tim sighed and glanced at both of them, "He's stable for now. Obviously, the sooner he's out of the reach of the phenom the better off we'll all be."

Terry turned around to face the distant costume display cases seen through the medbay doorway. Max could only speculate what was going through his head. This couldn't be easy for him. Tim might have felt the same way, but he knew they didn't have the luxury of time for pondering. He went to settle a reassuring hand on Terry's shoulder.

"Come on over to the annex. We'll show you all the info we've got so far, so you're not going into this thing blind."

Terry followed Tim, stunned by the abruptness of the situation. Part of him realized it would have eventually come down to a moment like this. Another part actually believed he had the luxury of a choice in the matter of his destiny.

Stupid pickled brain cells.

The lights suddenly dimmed then powered back up. A systems shut down warning began to scroll across the big computer screen. Max ran ahead to plop down quickly in the annex chair, her fingers tapping with amazing speed over the keyboard. In seconds she had a number of animated graphs dotting the screen, most of them blinking an ominous red.

Terry leaned in the direction of the screen, peering intently at the displays, "Am I seeing what I think I'm seeing?"

"Yep. Every system in the cave is being affected by power loss. Estimates show we'll be totally tapped out in seventy-two minutes."

"That should be impossible." Tim says in quiet wonder. "The hydrogen powered generators should be plenty of backup even if the solar stores get depleted and even that would take an enormous drain."

Terry speculated in fascination, "It's gotta be that thing out there sucking it in."

Shaking her head, Max said, "That doesn't jibe with the phenom's past history. It's only been draining living energy, not the other kind."

"Maybe it's capable of evolving." Terry offered with some hesitation. He's been out of the loop a long time and recent experience with his sluggish brain function is making him cautious about exposing himself to any more embarrassment.

"Could be." Tim considered. "If it can't get enough aether energy to satisfy its needs then maybe it would settle for something else."

"Yeah." Wonder was in Max's verbal pondering, "If aether energy is the phenom's equivalent to what we consider a basic nutritious diet, then maybe other energies are like--junk food for it."

Terry looked skeptical, "If it's hogging down that kind of stuff at this rate, then it's in for one hell of a bellyache."

Tim and Max stared blankly at him for a moment. Then Max nodded as if she thought his theory had merit. Tim barked out a brief chuckle and slapped Terry on the back,

"Good to have you back kid. You ready to go?"

Terry's face became expressionless. He turned to the display cases and walked toward the one that held his suit. He stood before it, his hands clenching and releasing once, then after a visible hesitation reached out to open the clear door. Lifting the suit from its hanger he hesitated again, staring at it so long that Max was compelled to go to him. He didn't turn, instead acknowledging her presence with soft, strained words.

"I don't have time for this."

Max didn't know what to say. She wasn't sure what he meant and she couldn't know how difficult this moment was for him to know how to reassure him. She did know some information he might find comforting,

"Bruce made sure we removed the disabling circuits of the suit. What happened--- won't ever happen again."

"Good," he replied quietly before moving quickly to the changing partition without a glance in her direction.

Terry suited up, sans the hood. His fatigue faded, a feeling of strength immediately flowing through him. He thought he understood what was happening. The synaptic connections were making contact with his body, the power source of the suit itself probably making up for the effects of the phenom.

He knows he doesn't have time to examine the emotions unfurling inside him, but the strongest ones cannot be ignored. First, surprise at how easily he adapts to the suit after so long out of it, how--right it feels. Second, how quickly the order of his thoughts become Batman oriented. All of Terry McGinnis' concerns and priorities fall away as Batman's single-minded intent surges to the front.

The negative stuff was there too. Despite Max's assurance, the memory of being trapped in the suit and what followed triggered an involuntary shudder. Never again. He didn't think that he could survive, physically or mentally, if he ever found himself in that position again.

He rejoined Max and Tim at the annex. They eyed his brisk approach. He flashed a brief grin and lifted his arms,

"It still fits."

Tim nodded approval, pride and relief in his eyes, "How does it feel?"

"Great. With the suit's strength enhancements I don't feel the phenom affecting me."

Max's expression was neutral, her voice matter-of-fact, "So is it something with the suit itself that's blocking the phenom or is it just the suit making up for the body's weakness?"

"Not sure. Guess we'll know more after it's field tested." Noting how washed-out the other two were looking reminded Terry of Bruce's condition and the reason he needed to move quickly. He pulled the cowl over his head, pausing to adjust it over the beard. He let out a chuckle while his gloved fingers pulled at one side of the cowl and then the other, "This feels really strange."

"Can't notice it from this side," Tim said.

"Okay," Terry was satisfied that the fit couldn't get any better without shaving. As long as all the extra hair didn't mess up the cowl contacts he could live with the irritation. He headed to the batmobile calling over his shoulder, "I'll open the link when I've got something to report."

Lights automatically flared up to light his path. In moments he was running a fond hand across the metal hide of the batmobile as the canopy slid open for him to enter. With a graceful hop he was settling into the snug, conforming seat. The canopy closed. He was enveloped in complete darkness before the red of instrumentation lit the cockpit in an eerie glow. The throbbing hum of powered up engines vibrated through his body, triggering all his senses into a familiar high.

He felt unbelievably alive!

With an effort Terry focused himself. Intercept and investigate the detected craft over the mansion. If it's the source of the phenom, eliminate it. Save Bruce. Save Gotham. Deal with Ra's Al Ghul and put him away for good!

Clear purpose and the rightness of his actions propelled Batman into the dark skies above the mansion. It had been a long, long time since he had felt so free and determined and...useful.

* * *

"Schway."

The awe was in his voice and Max waited tensely for him to elaborate or turn the visual link on so she could know what he was observing. His continued silence gnawed through her tenuous patience.

"Well?" she snapped. "What do you see?"

"It's... pretty."

Max slapped a hand across her face in frustration. He sounded like a five year old seeing a rainbow for the first time instead of a grown man about to tangle with a phenomenon that was responsible for killing over a hundred people. This was _not_ how she imagined his triumphant return to the costume would have been. With an effort she kept her tone 'back-up' normal.

"Describe it."

"A big shapeless blob. Huge. It must be spread out over half a mile or more. It's moving fast--well, not moving actually--kind of--rippling in place. And it's sparkling like a billion high-intensity fireflies."

"Can you get a visual on it?"

"No. Instrumentation is going crazy in here and I'm having trouble holding position."

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah, the suit's doing its job. I'm going to have to back off from the thing though. The car is mutinying on me. I've got to set her down before we crash."

"Understood. Any sign of the craft the cave's sensors picked up earlier?"

"Not sure. Too many distractions right now to do any kind of search. I'll fly up and make a solo search after the car is down and hope the suit can keep adjusting for the drain."

"I don't like that idea."

"Got any better ones?"

"No."

"I'll let you know when I find something. Later."

He closed the link and Max rolled her head forward in weariness. Three twenty-hour days in a row and now existing in the prolonged grip of the phenom was taking its toll on her.

The sound of his voice jerked her out of the involuntary doze she was falling into. A glance at the time told her that less than five minutes had passed since his last communication.

"Something's going on with the Blob. It seems out of control-- rippling or--pulsing like crazy. It's really bright now. Without the suit's protective visor I think it'd be blinding me. If you could look outside you'd easily see it. The suit's energy readings on it are off the scale."

"How close are you? Maybe you should move away."

"I'm good. I've got a visual on the hovercraft. It uncloaked about a quarter mile above the Blob and is moving fast on an intercept course towards it."

Max's groggy awareness was finally drawn to a new message blinking on the screen. She hurriedly informed Terry, "The--Blob has stopped drawing on the cave's energy."

"Good. How is...wait...it looks like the hovercraft is ejecting some kind of net over the Blob."

"They're trying to capture it? Maybe the net thing is a containment field."

"The net is only a fraction of the size it would need to be to cover the thing completely. Are cave sensors back online? Any idea how big this thing has gotten since it first got here?"

"I'll check it out. You think that's Al Ghul up there?"

His response time lagged measurably, but he did answer, "No reason why it couldn't be. Whoa!"

The loud crackle of electrical interference came over the link, making Max wince while her hands busied themselves worriedly trying to clear the connection. Once again the cave lights dimmed sharply then became abnormally bright before electrical connections all over the place began sparking. The acrid stench of burning circuitry filled the air.

Max let out a cry of surprise and jerked back as the board beneath her fingers lit up for a split second. Trying to comprehend the situation she glanced around the cave grasping for clues as to what was happening. She was plunged into partial darkness as the big screen in front of her shut down, taking all its considerable illumination with it.

The cave became quiet, intensity of the main lights steadying at about two-thirds of normal. Tim's frantic call had her rushing from the chair to the medbay. He was performing cardio-pulmonary resuscitation on Bruce as she entered.

"Whatever just happened, managed to fry the life support. There's a portable unit in the storage room. Get it now!"

Heart beating frantically, Max jumped to the task all the while hoping desperately that Terry was all right. The morbid thought of losing both Batmen in one fell swoop overwhelmed her for a moment. Her opinion of Ra's Al Ghul, already tainted by his personal affront on Terry and the knowledge of his long, evil history took on a much deeper hatred and... fear that someone so evil could continue to exist. What would it actually take to stop him?


	26. Chapter 24

_Author's Notes: Major thanks to Bumpkin for editing portions of this chapter and suggesting some wonderful detail to certain scenes. _

_Thanks to Kim and Jordan (who left no email for a personal note) for their enthusiastic reviews. _

_And an apology to Candice if she reads thisI must have been delusional when I told you it wouldn't be months before another update. Sorry._

* * *

With a grunt, Terry sat up in the small hole he had made in the damp ground. He vaguely remembered his uncontrolled trip through the night air and crashing through a hundred or so tree branches of various thicknesses. He wasn't about to complain about them since they had managed to slow his body smearing landing into a mere lung-clearing thud. 

'Hunh, definitely one thing that I didn't miss about wearing this suit,' he thought wryly as he carefully got back to his feet, ' the regular physical abuse to my poor body.'

Terry checked himself out and found everything still working. Looking skyward revealed only the pitch black of a moonless night. The entity that he'd been observing at close range and which had blazed like a mini-sun for a minute before it seemed to explode and send him on his uncontrolled flight, was gone.

"Damn thing must have vomited." he muttered, rubbing at the cowl to scratch the beard-induced itch beneath while activating the link to the cave. When silence was the response he worked the switch again with the same results. Trying different frequencies was also useless. He turned to face the distant, out-of-sight mansion and murmured worriedly, "What's going on over there Max?"

The distant beam of a searchlight slicing across the sky pulled his attention heavenward. It was the hovercraft and it was descending below the far off tree line.

Impulsively he rocketed his suit-covered body in that direction. He landed within the concealment of the forest edge and observed. The hovercraft's movements were jerky, the sound of its engines labored as it played out its netting over a much diminished Blob which had settled to float at ground level.

Filled with a sense of urgency, Terry again tried to contact the cave. He needed to let Max know what was going on.

Silence was the only reply.

The limping ship had now snagged the drifting, faded Blob and was rising slowly back up to the skies. Torn between worrisome thoughts of what might be happening in the cave and fear that 'Blob and company' would slip away from him, Terry made a quick decision.

Batman cloaked himself and flew toward the craft, hoping the thrust from the boot-jets wouldn't be noticed. Reaching it he landed softly on the hull, magnetically adhering to the surface. A nearby window drew him to it. He peered cautiously around the edge.

People inside the ship were running around, looking flustered and a little shell-shocked. Terry's blood turned cold when he glimpsed his sworn enemy standing inside. Talia...his...her...

Terry made a hissing sound and jerked himself in irritation. After all this time he still couldn't categorize the being that had turned his life into personal chaos. He grit his teeth and used the proper noun….

_Its _regally calm bearing contrasted sharply to the chaos around it.

Terry realized he had unconsciously bared his teeth and a low growl was escaping from his throat. He made himself stop despite the fact he wanted to follow through on the animal urge to crash through the window and tear _Its_ limbs from its body.

The ship bucked violently and he lost the view while steadying himself against the hull. When he looked again, _It_ was no longer visible. A fierce determination to get inside and confront _It _was abruptly confounded by the worry he felt for his friends in the cave.

What was wrong with the link? Was the problem on his end or the cave end? Were they all right? How bad had Bruce gotten? Were they so busy trying to keep Bruce alive that Max didn't have time to contact him?

Suddenly the slim female form strolled into view again. Once more angered adrenaline roiled through every feeling part of him. He raised an arm, fist clenched, swung it toward the clear surface andstopped it an inch from contact.

Terry released his incensed emotion with a subdued shout of aggravation.

This wasn't the time! Al Ghul's Blob was incapacitated for now, hopefully for good. Either way there'd be a cushion of relief for Gotham. More important right now was knowing the welfare of the people he loved residing in the cave. He had a feeling Bruce wouldn't agree with his choice, but it's what his guts were telling him to do and it was about time he started trusting them again.

After placing a tracer on the gradually accelerating ship Batman took off for the batmobile .

* * *

The batmobile screamed into the darkened cave entrance. Dread anticipation of what he'd find when he got there had Terry performing a risky bottom ejection from the cockpit before it slowed to land. 

He touched feet first, rolled to lessen the impact and was back on his feet in seconds running toward the annex. Senses on high he easily noted the burnt smell of fried circuitry. Thick wisps of smoke blocked the already dimmed lighting, giving the cave a surreal look. Most eerie of all was the strange quiet. Terry had never realized how much white-noise all the cave's equipment gave off until this moment when, apparently, most of it was now inoperative.

He saw Max sitting by the deadened computer with her head down on folded arms. It looked like a natural pose, not one she would have fallen into if…

Terry swallowed hard against a rise of sick fear. He yanked the itchy cowl from his head as he approached her. Holding his breath, he squatted beside the chair and called softly,

"Max."

She mumbled and groggily lifted her head.

He let the breath go.

_Thank you God. _

Impulsively he reached fingers to brush hair from her eyes. She focused blearily on him and smiled, her murmur heavy with relief,

"You made it back."

_Duh. Not one of the more intelligent deductions she's ever made. She must be really out of it._

He grinned and nodded. "You all right?"

She sighed, "Tired."

"How's Bruce?"

She pushed herself straight in the chair, the struggle to become alert easy for him to see. "We think he's out of danger. His vitals have stabilized. He came too for a minute and seems to be resting comfortably now. One of us will keep an eye on him for the next twenty-four hours just to make sure."

He steadied her wobbly rise from the chair, "You sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine." She made a half-hearted attempt to shrug off his helping hand, "I just need to sleep for a week or two."

He let her go when she seemed steady enough, "What happened in here?"

"Massive power overload. Too much, too fast for the breakers to handle. Tim's thinking whatever kind of connection the Blob made to tap into the cave's energies was still intact when it released that same energy. It's going to take days to get everything back online again." Max moaned the last while rubbing a hand across her eyes.

"Don't worry about it. We'll get it done."

She stared at him with a strange look on her face for so long that he had to question it.

"What?"

She shook herself, "Nothing."

He followed her into the medbay.

"Terry," Tim rose from his seat beside the bed where Bruce lay with tubes and wires running from his body to the life support unit. "Glad to see you're still in one piece."

"For awhile there I was wondering how many I'd end up in, but yeah it turned out okay." Terry replied as he went automatically to the bed and stared at its still occupant.

"Can we get you to elaborate on that a bit? Max and I were driving ourselves crazy wondering what you were dealing with."

"I don't think the phenom is going to be bothering Gotham for awhile. The hovercraft snagged what was left of it after it exploded. I stuck a tracer on the ship then headed back here." His voice trailed off as he eyed Bruce. "You sure we shouldn't take him to a hospital?"

Without the power of his conscious personality emanating through his eyes and mouth, Bruce looked like any other frail, old man. A fact that filled Terry with a certain sadness. He reached out to touch the gnarled hand lying atop the blanket, relieved to feel warmth there. Behind him, Tim's voice held strong reassurance.

"He's going to be fine Terry. His vitals strengthened as soon as the phenom's influence faded. I figure another hour on the unit just to be sure, then we can take him off of it."

Terry nodded that he had heard before turning in time to see Tim unsuccessfully stifle a huge yawn. Behind him Max seemed to be swaying, almost asleep on her feet. "I'll take over here. You two need to get some rest."

"How about I stay with him a little longer while you take her home." Tim said.

"I can take myself home." Max's sleepy protest lacked conviction.

Tim rolled his eyeballs tiredly at Terry and mouthed the word 'stubborn'.

"I heard that." Max made the effort to give him a friendly swat and missed.

Terry grinned, "Why not stay here and sleep in one of the spare bedrooms Max?"

"My cat needs me. I haven't spent any time with her in days "

Tim let out a loud snort and plopped back down in the chair. "I tried to get her to go upstairs before. Total waste of energy. Just get her out of here, even if you have to carry her."

Smiling, Terry took her by the arm and propelled her weakly protesting form out of the bay with an aside to Tim, "I'll be back within the hour."

* * *

Max fell asleep as soon as her head hit the back of the car seat. Seeing she hadn't fastened her seatbelt, he reached across to do it for her, surprised when she didn't stir even a little from his efforts. 

Terry traveled the familiar roadway in his usual speedy manner and noticed her relaxed body gradually tilting in his direction. With a pleasant notion in mind he took the curves with sharper emphasis than necessary until her head was resting against his shoulder. He lifted his arm carefully so she settled more snugly to his body then rested the arm around her. Satisfied, he smiled to himself, enjoying the opportunity to hold her close.

Too soon he was parked outside her building. The cessation of movement did not arouse her. Terry unbuckled and shifted a little so he could get a better look at her unguarded features, remembering how it was to make love to her. He wanted to do it again, but only if she wanted it too. No more begging.

Bending over he smoothed hair aside to softly kiss her forehead. He tensed in anticipation as she murmured sleepily. Her head tilted upwards leaving her face more exposed to his scrutiny. Unable to resist the impulse he twisted his torso into an awkward reach until his lips pressed gently to her cheek… then trailed with feather lightness to her nose… brushing down to her upper lip…

He held his breath as her mouth parted, full lips fastening lazily around his slow-to-recede lower lip. He responded in kind, restraining his eagerness as she continued to dreamily play with his mouth, deepening the kiss.

He felt instant disappointment when she suddenly stopped, her eyelids raising wide in shock. She pulled away and sat up straight on the seat. Slowly she turned her face to him blinking sleep from her dark eyes.

He showed her an innocent grin, "You're home."

She blinked again, looked out her window and slowly unbuckled. Then she just sat there.

"Max?" he said finally and touched her arm.

He's taken aback at the expression she turns to him. He's not sure what it means. He's never seen it before.

She leaned towards him, surprising him when her arms wrap around his neck pulling him close. Her throaty murmur is even more unexpected. "I'm scared…for all of us."

His arms encircle her, wanting to comfort her spoken fearsof what he wasn't certain. Her next words give him the answer.

"He really is a demon isn't he?"

Terry felt an angry resolve rise inside. Al Ghul, known in some historic circles as the Demon's Head. That bizarre example of a warped human being was even unhinging Max nowsomething he thought she was immune too after seeing how easily she had helped handle some of Batman's more unusual cases in the past. Bruce was right. This had gone on long enough. And he was a jerk for letting it.

He pulled away without letting her go and stared determinedly into her eyes, "He's human Max. Intelligent, insanely obsessed and willing to sacrifice whatever it takes to get what he wants, even his own child. And I'm going to stop him."

"Alone?"

His expression turned rueful, "Not as long as I have you and Bruce and Tim on my side. And since you're still here after all the crap I've put you all through lately, I guess you won't be going anywhere now."

Max smiled tiredly, "I'm glad you're back."

"So am I."

"You really mean that?"

He shrugged, "It hasn't sunk all the way in yet, but yeah, it feels right."

Her dark eyes studied him intently for a moment before she nodded, "Good."

"I talked to Tamara tonight."

Max became more alert, "How is she?"

"He's turning her into a basket case, but she's holding on. She gave me a lead that might help me find where Rasy is keeping her parents cloistered. As soon as we're sure Bruce is recovering I'll follow up on it."

He could see questions in her eyes, but she only nodded wearily. Her mouth curved into a small smile and she cupped his bearded jaw with tender hands. His breath froze in his throat, caught fast by the gentle gesture.

"Terr, no matter which direction our lives go in the future," Max hesitated for a moment. Her face tilted downwards as her eyes fell closed. She was obviously trying to marshal her tired brain into order to finish saying what she had begun. When she looked up again her eyesalight with passion.

"You are my best and oldest friend. I love you. I always will and I wanted you to" she corrected herself with a small shake of her head. "No, I _need_ you to know that." She leaned forward and kissed him fiercely as if to seal the words with the action before she scooted out of the car.

Stunned, Terry could only lift two fingers to rest on his stinging lips and watch her make her way slowly from the car and into her building.

* * *

Terry busied himself with repair work to the cave equipment while making regular checks on Bruce's condition. It was over six hours before the old man began to stir. 

Ace, who had not budged from his position beside his unconscious master, now jumped down from the bed as Terry entered the room. Tongue lolling and tail wagging, he trotted over to greet the young human as if saying 'Hey, look! He's finally awake!'

"Hey pup." Terry palmed the broad head and scratched behind the appreciative dog's ears while noting Bruce's eyes watching them.

He approached the bed, Ace trotting ahead to jump up and return to his spot there. Bruce's hand automatically moved to absently stroke the soft fur. Ace made a dog-like moan of pleasure and Terry would have sworn the animal was smiling.

"How you feeling?"

"Old." Bruce replied in a scratchy growl. He fumbled for the bed switch, grabbed it and raised the head of the bed.

"Then I guess you're doing okay." Terry grinned, happy to see his mentor returning quickly to his usual curmudgeonly self.

Looking a bit paler in the new position Bruce still managed his patent frown, "Report McGinnis."

"Short version?" Terry kept a close eye on Bruce as he moved to another part of the room to pour a glass of ice water. "They got away. But not before I stuck a tracer on the ship."

"And?"

"Aannnd" he walked to Bruce and handed him the cold container. "When Max or Tim get here to keep an eye on you I'll go and check it out."

"I don't need a babysitter." Bruce grumped.

"Right." Terry noted the tremble in Bruce's arm as he reached out to grasp the glass. "We've already established your age category."

"Give me the long version. What happened after I lost consciousness?"

"Drink first. Long version later."

Ready to stand his ground when his mentor scowled, Terry was surprised when Bruce raised the glass to his lips. Giving in that easily? He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

Terry took the near empty glass from Bruce, "You hungry? I know I sure am."

"No." Bruce replied irritably. "And why is it so dark in here?"

"That's courtesy of our friendly neighborhood Blob who decided to give back as much as it took."

"Blob?"

"The phenom. It was drawing off the cave's power like crazy until it got too much and spit it all back. The reverse surge was more than the breakers could handle and wellyou can guess what happened. It'll be awhile before everything is back online."

Bruce sat in thoughtful silence before looking at Terry again, "How long have I been out?"

"Ah, about nine hours. You really had us worried for awhile there."

"So you got a visual on it?"

Terry nodded, "Up close and personal."

"Did you see R'as?"

Terry scowled, his mood darkening without conscious thought.

"Yeah," he grated. "_It_ was on the ship."

Bruce crooked a silver brow at Terry who noted the jaundiced look before turning to put the glass away. He didn't want his mentor lecturing him right now on the pitfalls of emotion and how they adversely affect judgment. He attempted to change the subject instead.

"I'm gonna run upstairs and get us some soup."

Too bad Bruce wasn't going for it. Terry sighed inwardly when he heard the voice evolve into full mentor mode.

"You have to defeat him in your mind before you can be successful at it in reality."

"Can we save this for later, when you're feeling better?"

"Haven't you learned by now that avoiding issues won't make them go away?"

"Dammit Bruce!" Terry barked in exasperation. "Don't you ever quit?"

A few hours back in the suit and they were already falling back into the same routine. And let's totally forget the fact Bruce had been near death. It didn't matter to Bruce so why should it bother anyone else? Well it mattered to him and slaggit! he wasn't ready for this conversation.

"No." Bruce replied firmly. "And neither do you."

"Ah" Terry cast his mentor a skeptical look. "Could you please state your full name and date of birth and whether you remember _anything _of the last couple months?"

"There's nothing wrong with my memory."

"Then you'll probably recall the fact that I did indeed quit my alter ego?"

"You stepped away from it for awhileto get a new perspective. That's not quitting. I've done it myself more than once."

Terry focused an intense gaze on the elder whose pale, deeply wrinkled face made him look more fragile than he'd ever seen before. How close really had they been to losing him this time? He didn't want to imagine what life would be like when it did happen. Maybe now wasn't a good time to say what he wanted to saybut maybe if he waited too long he'd never have the chance.

Hesitation played an expressive series of movements on Terry's face before Bruce's mouth quirked into a slight grin.

"Something you wanted to say?"

"I was think'in I" his voice was husky and strained as he fought to control emotion, "don't want you to die. I don't want Batman to die. Tell me what I have to do to keep it all alive."

Bruce gazed with a fathomless stare for a long moment, the fingers of one hand continuing to work the fur at Ace's neck, before he rebuked softly,

"It doesn't matter what you want. Life will go on without me or Batman or even you in it. But the ideals, the justice, the... purpose we've been struggling to preserve all these years will never die. There will always be someone out there who will pick up where we left off, just as we were compelled to."

Bruce closed his eyes and let go a heavy sigh. He was annoyed that the simple act of talking was so exhausting, but he wouldn't let it stop him from continuing.

"Terry" Bruce tilted his body slightly towards the young man. "I have my own selfish reasons for wanting you to continue, but if that's not what you want thenthere's no shame in letting that part of your life go. You've done more than your share of righting the wrongs. And it wouldn't be fair or right to compare yourself to me. You are not me."

Terry stared at Bruce...and saw him with new sight. Not with eyes that regarded him as a living legend or as a demanding and often unforgiving mentor. He saw him simply now, as a man who had struggled and fought for everything he had become just as Terry was doing now. There was no magic to Batman. He was who he was through motivation, intelligence, discipline and persistence. And though he might get close to being as good a Batman as Bruce someday, he would never _be _Bruce. He voiced the revelation in a soft murmur.

"I always thought I had to be."

Bruce gave his grayed head a slow shake and replied with that sage tone he used on special occasions.

"There are just two expectations I have ever had for you Terry. One. That you are effective in whatever you set your mind to doing. And two. That you stay alive."

Terry stared for a long time, thoughts unreadable on his face, though the flash of blue in his eyes expressed disbelief. "That's it? That's all you ever wanted from me?"

"That covers a lot of territory." Bruce's eyebrows had risen marginally, a cautious tone in his voice. "Think about it. All I had to do was direct you where I wanted you to go by convincing you that that's where _you_ wanted to go. And if you accomplished the goal then we were both satisfied."

"So what are you saying?" Terry said after a thoughtful silence, the rising edge of anger tingeing his words. "That I was some kind of puppet for you?" He was surprised to see a genuine smile light the old man's face, yet his eyes held a rock hard glint.

"No one has _ever_ controlled you Terry. Not your parents. Not your peers. Not me. Not even the dictates of Batman. Every decision you've ever acted on was compelled by your own reasoning."

"But you just said - "

"I used the words direct and convince. I knew in the very beginning if I had tried to bridle you and rein you in the direction I wanted, you'd have taken hold of the bit and given me more trouble than I was willing to or perhaps even able to handle at this stage in my life."

"So I'm in the horse category now?" Terry muttered distaste at Bruce's choice of metaphor.

Bruce's brow lifted in wry emphasis, "That's a better term than Max sometimes uses when she's referring to you."

Terry grimaced at the reminder of how angry she could get with him at times and went to give his beard an irritated tug. He looked squarely at Bruce.

"Why?" Terry's murmur indicated true bewilderment. "Why did you choose me?"

"Choose?" Bruce replied with a knowing droll. They both knew quite well that Terry's introduction to Batman had none of Bruce's input or consent.

"Okay, maybe I'll rephrase that. Why did youletme?"

"Because it's what we both wanted."

* * *

They couldn't work together. One of them had to go. 

It was either the cowl or the beard. The decision was pretty much a no brainer. Batman without the cowl would be as unthinkable as Superman without his cape. Yet the thought of losing the concealing mass of chin hair left him feeling a bit bereft and sort ofnaked.

Terry stared at his image in the mirror, one hand stroking the thick reddish black hair covering his jaw line.

"So what're you afraid of McGinnis," he murmured to himself. "Why the hesitation?"

Like he had told Max, it was there for him to hide behindto tell himself and the world he was not the same man he had been once. Well duh! From the lousy way he'd been acting around others the last months he sure didn't need the beard to let them know.

No. Admit it. The beard meant something only to me.

So whatshaving it off was the final act he would make to seal his return to the alter-ego and that scared him? He shook his head.

"No. I want this. Being Batman feels right, but…."

I'm thinking if I take the beard off I'll go back to being who I was beforea failure.

Huh? You believe that facial hair is going to decide your destiny?

He laughed aloud at the absurd deduction, his train of thoughts suddenly taking a more positive track.

And let's be honest here. The only people who really feel you're a failure is yourself and old Rasy and neither of you have an objective viewpoint on the subject. If there was any real failure it was with Terry McGinnis for taking his frustrations out on the people who deserved his respect. He was sorry about that and was doing his best to atone for that past negative behavior.

Terry picked up the clippers, took a deep breath as he stared at it then brought the device quickly up to his face and began shaving.

* * *

The thirty-second story window was open, letting the night's humid breeze into the room. Batman perched on the ledge and looked in to see Vince Wardo's back as he sat at a large office desk. 

He jimmied the screen latches and slid it upwards, wincing at the sound and waiting for Vinnie to turn around. Either the guy was really deep into thought or Terry hadn't lost as much finesse as he thought he had. Uncloaking, he slipped into the room and stood about a foot behind the seated man, arms crossed, pose relaxed. Letting his voice drop to Batman's distinctive timbre, he said quietly,

"How you been Vinnie?"

Vince Wardo jerked in surprise, one arm accidentally sweeping the meal from his desk as he whirled to face the threat behind him. The fat-lined pasty-white face gaped in silence for long seconds. The papers held in his nerveless hand fluttered to the floor while he continued to stare in shock. Terry wondered if he had just triggered a heart attack in the man.

It was his turn to be surprised when Vinnie dropped to his knees in front of Batman and began to babble.

"Batman! Praise all that's sane in this world! You're back! You're back from the dead!" His meaty hands clasped together in a pose of supplication. "You've got to save me from her. She's insane. She's going to kill us all! I didn't know what I was getting into. I'm sorry! Please... send me to prison. I don't wanna die!"

Whoa. If he needed proof that Vince was involved with Al Ghul he had it. Seemed old Rasy could bring anyone to the brink of mental unwellness. Terry felt a new depth of compassion for the hapless Vinnie.

"Easy Vinnie. It's nice seeing you too." Batman urged the trembling man back to his chair. "Just relax and tell Uncle Batman all about it."

Vince continued to stare wide-eyed and hopeful. One of his trembling hands wiped at the sweat beading his forehead. "You have no idea how glad I am to see you…no idea at all."

"Ah, I think you've made that pretty obvious and I'm flattered Vinnie. Really I am. I didn't know you cared. So tell mewhat kind of trouble have you been into since I've been gone?"

"I" Vince clutched at his left shoulder, his face screwing up in pain and confusion. He leaned crookedly in the chair trying to ease the hurt.

"You okay?"

"Indigestion."

"In your arm?" Terry watched Vince's complexion take on a bluish tinge. He had a bad feeling about what was happening.

"This whole side…" his hand slid across his chest, "burns."

Terry wrapped a gloved hand around Vince's wrist, holding it firmly for a minute. A glimpse at the readouts within his cowl made him frown. He turned away to activate the cave link and murmur, "Maxyou there?"

"Yep, got it. Dangerously high blood pressure, rapid, weak pulse and chest pain. I'm sending an ambulance your way now. Get him to chew a couple of aspirin while you're waiting."

Terry flicked open a tiny compartment on his utility belt, letting two white tablets fall into his gloved hand. He offered them to Vince, "Here. Chew these and swallow."

"What is it?"

"Aspirin. You on any medications?"

With a shaky hand Vince took the pills and palmed them to his mouth, "Just my daily dose of brandy at night. Helps me sleep."

Terry's mouth quirked into a wry grin beneath his mask. That was something he could relate to, "When's the last time you went to a doctor?"

"Don't go," he ground out between chews. "Don't trust 'em. They're all a bunch of quacks."

"You don't trust doctors, but you're willing to deal with a wacko woman you know nothing about. When you gonna start using your brains Vinnie?"

"There's a difference. One's personal, the other's business. A man's got to make a living." He hunched further in his chair to give Batman a suspicious look. "You sound like you know who she is."

"I might."

"She's the reason you" Vince drew in a pained breath, "disappeared, isn't it?"

Batman gave his head a dismissive shake, "I'm back. That's all that matters, besides the fact you're having a heart attack. You know that right?"

"No, I've felt this before." He continued to grimace and rub at one side of his chest. "It'll pass in awhile."

"Paramedics are on their way. They'll be taking you to a hospital."

"No…no hospital, no doctor. I'll be okay now that you're back. You'll stop her. She won't be slit'in my neck."

"If you want me to stop her, you'll have to tell me everything you know."

"Anything," he panted. "Ask a question."

"She's holding a man and woman hostage. Where are they?"

Vince grunted assent, "Married. Nice people. Don't know why she's keeping them."

"Where?"

"Ugh…hard to breathe."

"Just try to stay relaxed," Batman placed a hand on Vinnie's shoulder. "So is this couple in the city somewhere?"

"New Town," Vince wheezed and writhed in his chair. "Thirteen twenty-one… Lane Avenue. I set up a twenty-four hour guard schedule to… keep them inside and make sure… they got food and… and stuff."

"How mVinnie?"

Batman caught Vince as he slumped over and guided his fall to the floor. He gripped the unconscious man's wrist. Sensitive instruments within the suit's glove weren't detecting a pulse.

"Max? He's in defib. How long before those EMT's get here?"

"ETA four and a half minutes. Better not wait for them."

Terry emitted a noise of displeasure as he laid Vince out, made sure his airway was clear and bared his chest, "I knew you were going to say that. I hate doing this. It never goes like it's supposed to."

"You mean like a textbook scenario?"

"Right," he replied as he pulled a tiny kit from his utility belt. Opening it he fumbled to retrieve some small specialized electrodes from within. When his padded fingers refused to grasp them, he let out an exasperated sigh and pulled off the right glove. Nimbly he picked them out and placed them at strategic points on Vince's chest. He connected the separate electrodes to a central lead, then connected that to a retractable wire pulled out from a hidden dot beneath the suit's breastbone area. "You getting a reading?"

"Yeah, it looks good here. Whenever you're ready."

"Here goes."

There was no sound as a controlled electrical charge was sent from Batman's suit to Vince's chest. Vince did not move even as Max's relieved voice sounded in Terry's ear.

"It's not real steady, but I am reading a rhythm."

"Great, but he's still not breathing." Terry pulled up the lower half of his cowl and positioned himself beside Vince to give mouth to mouth resuscitation.

Over and over he blew air into Vinnie's mouth, waiting for some sign the unconscious man was taking in his own breath. His own breathing becoming labored, Terry paused again for what seemed the thousandth time and stared down at Vince's still form.

"Come on Vinnie, breathe! How long has it been Max?"

"Almost four minutes."

"Damn!" Terry muttered and resumed breathing for Vince. The sound of approaching sirens sent a feeling of both relief and anxiety through him. Relief that Vinnie would finally get professional help and anxiety knowing he couldn't disappear like he wanted to when the help arrived because he couldn't stop breathing for Vince.

The loud piercing sound of an up close siren was suddenly silenced, but he could see the faint blue-red of flashing lights bouncing at tiny points around the room. He wondered vaguely how a ground level light could reach inside a room at this height. The thud of running feet came from outside and then a pounding on the outer office door.

With a final breath for Vinnie, Batman surged to his feet, pulled the cowl back in place and sprinted to open the locked door. He gestured to the room beyond.

"He's in there. Heart attack. Shocked him out of defib. Still not breathing on his own."

The policeman and two paramedics stared gaping at the famous, thought dead and gone, Batman until Batman ordered in deep-voiced urgency,

"GO!"

That jerked them into action. They scrambled past him, the paramedics setting up their equipment beside Vince while the policeman stopped and turned around to ask Batman a question.

He was gone.

A quick check around both rooms revealed nothing. With a shrug, the cop went to help the busy medics. One of them handed him a bag of intravenous solution to hold saying, "We seeing things or was he really here?"

"_Somebody_ let us in," the cop replied, unsure himself of what they had seen. The other medic snorted.

"Course that was him. Had to be the real thing. I ain't never seen a costume with that kind of detail. Besides, itfelt like him."

"Felt?" his partner laughed as they both continued to stabilize their patient. "What is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"I don't know. Just some'thin about him. You knowan aura or whatever you call it. He felt strongenergizedyou know, like a hero should be."

There was another disbelieving chuckle. "And how would _you _know what a hero's supposed to feel like?"

"Hey," the other chided sharply. "I just know, okay?"

"Well," the cop mused after a lengthy silence watching the medics do their job. "I hope he is back, cause this city sure hasn't been the same since he's been gone."

"That's an understatement if IAll right, his respirations are starting to climb. Let's get him home."

Working as the trained team they were, the three got Vince's heavy body loaded quickly unto the portable gurney and headed to the transport.

They didn't see Batman's cloaked form reappear in one corner of the room or hear him murmur to himself,

"Guess it's official now, eh Max?"

"Yep. Batman's back."

"You think Vinnie'll be okay?"

"Yeah, for some strange reason I do. Of course we'll have to keep Al Ghul away from him."

"Right." Batman moved to the open window, perching on its edge. He took in the sight of the city at this mid-level height, the buildings that rose higher and those that dotted the lower landscape. All dazzling with manmade lighting. "I'm going to free Tamara's parents first. Rasy'll be next. We're going to stop him for good this time Max."

"I know. Keep me informed."


	27. Chapter 27

-1

_It's finished folks. The final three chapters. I'll post them as quickly as possible._

_Thank you to Manzana for the 'spur' to get me going again. I'd been waiting and wishing for this darn thing to write itself, but it refused. So I had to do it myself and here it finally is in all its uninspired glory. I'll be the first to say this wasn't worth the long wait. The best I can hope for is that, like me, you're satisfied that it's finally done! _

_A huge THANK YOU to Bumpkin who edited this, added a few gems of her own to the textand put up with my whining and babbling. _

_Thank you to those who put this story on their favorites list. Many thanks for all who reviewed. I would NOT have finished without your words of praise and encouragement. Special regards to those who have been reading, reviewing and waiting from the beginning. Your patience is remarkable! I will never forget you--cause all I have to do is read your reviews again:D_

_

* * *

_

I'm flying high--in more ways than one. And I don't mean the artificially induced kind.

Nope.

The reason for my feelings of loftiness is the schway piece of machinery that I'm sitting in--the legendary Batmobile. I'm soaring with effortless ease above and around the buildings of a Gotham night with a simple twitch here or a slight tug there, the powerful craft responding like an extension of my body.

It's a rush.

Not only for me either. I know for a fact, the chance of seeing the sight of me and or my machine slipping through the skyscrapers is a sight that attracts many tourists to Gotham in the first place. Heh. Maybe I should let Rodeo Boy have a spin before he goes home. Gotta be more exciting than taking down a cow.

Then there's the form fitting suit encasing my body which is armored to the nines and has more tricks up its' sleeves than any envious magician would think of conjuring. Stiff and confining to a degree, the suit is still comfortable to me because it, along with the Batmobile and my sense of purpose--which has returned full force--add up to one thing.

I _am_ Batman.

I believe that. It's not a false attempt at mental empowerment or a feeling of conceit or bravado. It's what _I _believe.

I'm not _THE_ Batman. Just _A_ Batman. And hell---that's plenty enough for me to handle.

Why me?

Don't know.

Do I believe in destiny?

Am I a fatalist?

Does it really matter?

Nope.

Right now Batman's going to rescue Tamara's parents, then hunt down _It _and put him out of commission which should end the Blob's threat hanging over the city and return it to normal--- well, normal for Gotham.

Yep.

Gonna do all that as soon as I help stop that high speed chase that's going on just below me. Looks like the Gotham City Police force has their hands full with this one.

I activated the link, "Got a 'catch-me-if-you-can' parade in my scopes Max. Think I'll join up."

"Try not to get too caught up in the excitement. You've got more important things on your agenda."

My thoughts stopped for a moment to mull her terse reply.

Since when did Max start nagging? Maybe she's just nervous about resuming her old role, like I was. If I know her at all, she's probably regretting the words right about--.

"Um, that didn't come out the way it should have."

I smiled, "Understood. Batman out."

With a simple thought and the miniscule movement of each hand on the controls, I sent the craft diving through the traffic below.

* * *

The lights were dimmed in the cavern-like laboratory. All power to the equipment had been reduced to only essential processes to help keep the Demon's greedy energy-eater from being enticed by the artificial energy.

Ra's Al Ghul chafed at his inability to cope well with the increasing restlessness of his new 'pet'. He knew it was hungry because that was the way he wanted the creature to be. There needed to be a balance of its strength; not too hungry or too full, in order for him to keep it contained. He allowed it small amounts of energy on a regular basis, but since the creature's recovery from gluttonous behavior and near destruction over Wayne Manor it was no longer satisfied with the tidbits he was giving it.

He watched the pulsing mass within the containing cubicle while his ancient mind searched for solutions. His brows furrowed with antipathy as one of his technicians, walking past the cubicle, suddenly staggered then dropped in his tracks to the floor.

Ra's vision made a casual shift towards the cubicle and noted a subtle brightness inside that had not been present a minute ago. With subdued pride he realized his resourceful pet had pilfered another snack.

Another tech ran over to the still body and searched for a pulse. After a moment he came to stand before the expectant Ra's. Subduing his shaking hands by clasping onto his uniform, the balding tech bowed his head.

"He is dead my Master. He does not have his bracelet on."

"An idiot who has paid the price for his inferiority. Dispose of the carcass."

"Yes Master."

The bracelets had been developed after they realized the creature could slip tiny tendrils through the containment and suck the energy from anyone within its reach. Five had died before they discovered that fact and the way to stop it. Now everyone working in the area wore a bracelet that was designed to shield and mask a person's energy field from the creature's senses. Of course, if someone neglected to wear the bracelet and got too close to the cubicle, they would die, drained completely of their life energy.

A different nagging thought came to Ra's full attention. He brushed back the incessantly falling lock of hair from Talia's forehead and looked at his watch. Lips thinning in annoyance, he waved another technician to his presence. She hurried to him; her head bowed the whole way.

"My Master?" she murmured breathlessly.

"Has Mr. Wardo called in with his daily report?"

"No Master."

"He knows the punishment for lack of obedience. Send a team to check up on him and his charges."

"Yes my Master."

He sighed in exasperation and murmured to himself, "They are _all_ morons. None of them are worth saving."

* * *

"Okay Max," Terry said wearily while noting the narrow strand of light widening in the eastern horizon. Dawn already? Where did the night go?

The thought brought a smile to his face.

The night had been very productive. After the high-speed chase there was the fiery five-car accident on the Commerce Street highway where Batman was able to help remove victims and put out the fire. That led to an overheard radio call from an arrived police vehicle alerting available units to a gang altercation at the edge of the Fashion District near Miller Harbor.

That particular situation had gotten a little hairy for him, making it clear his rusty skills were in need of polishing. His ears were still ringing a little from a hit to the head he had taken when both gangs realized it was Batman that was interfering with their business and ganged up on him together. He finally got them all packaged up for Gotham's Finest and was dusting his suit off when Max informed him of a hostage situation at a convenience store near the corner of Dillon and Verne Avenues.

That one was time-consuming and tricky, but he ended it neatly, with the three suspects captured and no injury to any of the hostages. The police surrounding the building didn't know it was over until one of the freed hostages alerted them to the fact along with the news that Batman had done the deed.

The rest of the night had unfolded like one of those ancient film reels-frame after frame-one thing after another. It was just like his old routine patrols of ordinary-type criminal activities, only doubled in number. Terry knew why. Batman had been gone a long time. Long enough for the criminal element to think it was for good, a big reason why they didn't feel they needed to skulk around anymore.

Unfortunately for them, Batman was back. As they unknowingly went about their blatant business, he easily caught them in the act and took them out before they had a chance to get over their surprise.

Terry wished he could always be this efficient and effective, but knew how quickly word would spread in the city. If he happened to be out patrolling tomorrow at this time the pickings would be much slimmer for Batman.

His feelings of accomplishment and excitement were tempered by practicality and a sense of urgency. Sure it was great catching all these dregs and making Gotham safer, but the whole city was going to fall apart if he didn't stop _It. _And stopping _It _meant getting to Tamara's parents which he kept letting himself get sidetracked from. Maybe Stalker's "thrill of the hunt" was more addictive than he realized. And maybe Max had the right idea when she nagged him.

"Is there any chance I can make it all the way to Lane Avenue this time without a new distraction?"

He heard her tired snort, "Guess that depends on how bad you're looking for one."

"Okay, maybe I deserved that."

"Maybe? Terr, you're acting like a cat in an alley--pouncing on every rat you see, when the biggest, baddest rat of all is standing right in front of--." Max clamped down on her anger and blew out a tense breath. "Sorry. How about if you just drive faster?"

"Good advice," he replied quietly and increased his speed through the city. After this was all over they'd have to talk a few things through. He wasn't sure he liked this changed relationship with his 'back-up'.

* * *

It took only minutes to reach his destination.

In stealth mode he slipped into the apartment building and assessed the situation. Out of the four apartments; two were empty, one was furnished although no dwellers were inside and the fourth was occupied with two men in the outside hallway playing cards on a portable table and chairs. He made a hushed call to Max before taking action, "Looks like a simple rescue. Contact the Commish. Let her know what's happening and ask her if she wouldn't mind joining me here."

"Understood."

Batman easily disarmed the not-very-alert guards and bound them securely. Learning to appreciate the skill of finesse in whatever simple way possible, he took the key card from one of the guards and simply unlocked the door instead of breaking it down.

Tamara's parents, having awoken from hearing the strange noises outside, were standing near the doorway when Batman entered. Terry stared at the pajama-clad couple, matching them with the memory he had of them years ago and affirming they were the same people, only older looking. He said the first thing that came to mind, "Your daughter wanted me to tell you that she loves you."

Their haggard faces broke into relieved smiles. Mr. Caulder's happiness faded for a moment. He stared fearfully at Batman, "She _is_ alive?"

Batman nodded.

The couple looked at each other then fell into each other's arms. Mr. Caulder murmured raggedly in his crying wife's ear, "She's all right. Thank God she's all right."

Batman gave them a few seconds before interrupting, "The police are coming to pick you up and take you somewhere safe. I'll be watching outside until they get here."

Mrs. Caulder, wiping at her eyes, took an anxious step towards him, "What about Tamara? When can we see her?"

"We'll get you too her as soon as we can. Just sit tight."

It was a few fleeting minutes before Batman, hidden in the shadows outside, witnessed three squad cars pull up quietly before the building. He saw Barbara Gordon's familiar trench coated figure get out of the second vehicle. Unlike the others with her, Terry noted she was immediately scanning the area for information before her foot touched the concrete. Probably the ingrained 'bat' training that had been pounded into her from her younger days. Out of curiosity he moved out of the shadows for a split second, his gaze watching her intently. He grinned when she suddenly looked up in his direction. Still pretty sharp after all those years. He wasn't surprised when she sent the other officers inside and discreetly made her way towards him.

Batman jumped down from his darkened perch, deliberately making noise as he landed. Barbara honed in quickly on the sound and joined him where the shadowed side of the building would hide them both. Like the old man, she wasted no time on pleasantries.

"What else have you got for me?"

"Rasy's head on a platter when I get to him."

"Where is he?"

"I stuck a tracer on his ship when the Blob was visiting the mansion."

"Blob?"

"That's what we're calling the thing that sucks energy. "

"Cute. So where is he?"

"I don't know. We couldn't find the signal. The tracer could be broke, out of range or he might have found and disabled it. I've been wanting to--"

Batman suddenly turned his head to the left. Barbara followed his gaze, seeing only the deeper darkness further inside the alley. Maybe he was seeing something through the specialized lenses in his cowl that her unaided eyes couldn't. She tensed, readying herself for action and waited for some kind of signal from him. What he said moments later made little sense to her. She had the strong feeling he wasn't talking to her.

"They're safe," he said breaking into a big smile and turning it towards her for a moment before facing the darkness again.

Puzzled by his behavior she asked, "You all right?"

"Yeah," he was still grinning and looking towards the darkness. "I just got reminded that something good happened for a change."

"What are you--?"

Batman silenced her with a raised hand while intently looking over at nothing Barbara could see or hear.

"Where?" he said to the nothingness again, went quiet and struck a listening pose for a minute before shaking his head and saying with annoyance. "You've got to be more specific. It'd take me days to cover that--- Wait. Tamara!"

Batman lunged, an arm reaching out to grab in the direction he had been staring. He stopped abruptly, a frustrated noise accompanying cessation of the action.

And then Barb understood. "You're talking to that psychic girl."

Batman's fists clenched and released. Barbara heard new tension in his voice.

"She was trying to tell me where she was."

"And where she is-- is where Ra's is?"

He nodded. "From what she was describing, it must be his base of operations. It's underground and somewhere outside the city limits."

"Well that narrows it down." Barb didn't mean to sound so acerbic, but sometimes frustration got the best of her.

"That and that there's a herd of cows near the place. She had to stop before she could tell me more."

"Cows. Well that's a little more helpful. The agricultural district in Gotham County."

"Which covers a mere thirty square miles or so? Nothing that can't be thoroughly searched in a matter of days."

Barb understood the reason for his sarcastic tone, "And in that amount of time he could easily move on. Especially if he realized we were looking."

"Which he'll likely assume when he finds out we've taken a pair of ace-in-the-holes away from him."

"The girl's parents. You know--you could have told me about this before now. I might have been able to help."

"Well, I--haven't been in a very good frame of mind lately." There was humor in his self-mocking tone. "Not thinking clearly for some reason."

"So I've heard," she replied dryly. "How are you now?"

"You probably don't want to hear this, but--" Terry's voice lowered dramatically. "Batman is back."

Barbara the Commissioner of Gotham kept the stern look on her face, but Barbara the friend of Terry McGinnis was percolating with a renewed sense of hope. She smirked, "I'll let the press know."

"I've got to get her away from him before he realizes her parents are gone. I'm worried about what he might do. Did Max fill you in about Wardo?"

She nodded, "He was in the intensive care unit at Gotham General. The doctors said he was stable enough to move, so that's what we did--as unobtrusively as possible--to another hospital. A couple of plainclothes detectives are in place acting as relatives." Barb tipped her head towards the apartment building. "We've got a better place for those two."

"Thanks."

"I'll do a little checking on the amount of traffic around the agricultural district; see if there's anything noteworthy that might give us a clue where he might be holed up."

Batman nodded, and then put two fingers near the right ear of the cowl, "I need to go. The Jokerz are trashing a business not far from here."

"How about letting us handle that one?"

"Thanks, but this is personal. And it shouldn't take long. I'm on a roll tonight." He flashed a quick grin before snapping his wings open and rocketing skyward.

As Barbara walked to the building entrance to join her officers, she heard a distinctive whine and looked up to glimpse the shadow of the batmobile passing overhead. She allowed herself a small smile and murmured, "Hate to admit it, but I'm glad you're back kid."

* * *

Howard's Place was obviously a magnet for disasters. Terry wondered if he'd made the right investment choice, but quickly ceased that train of thought. He had invested in his belief of the man, not the business. 

With the last of the Jokerz either unconscious or having fled, Batman looked worriedly around the jumble of wrecked furniture for a sign of Howard. The place looked bad, but not near as bad as before it had to be remodeled. At least he knew the insurance was paid up this time. Where was--? A soft awe-struck voice spoke shakily from behind him.

"Batman?"

He turned around to see Howie standing in a far corner. The pudgy man was staring at him wide-eyed through bent-up glasses. The torn flowered shirt he wore hung crookedly on his shoulders. Trickles of blood striped his face, tousled hair matted with some of the red. He was slightly bent over with both arms folded across his middle. Terry had no doubt his friend was in pain. He hurried over.

"You all right?"

Howie kept staring while answering with the bobbing of his head. To ward off shock, Terry tried to get him talking.

"Do you work here or are you a customer or--?"

"I…I'm the owner."

"Nice place."

"Th-thanks."

"Was there anyone else in here when those clowns came?"

Howie shook his head, "N-no. I had just closed up when they showed. I couldn't believe it. They--they just smashed the door in--laughing the whole time. I tried to stop them."

"Yeah, I can see you did. Too bad the odds were stacked against you."

"Ye--yeah. I think I actually bruised one of them though."

"Good for you," Batman grinned. "You going to be okay? Do you think you might need a hospital?"

"Umm," Howie winced as he straightened. "I--I'm good for now."

"I promise the Jokerz won't be bothering you in the future."

"They won't?"

"Not as long as I'm around."

Howie squinted at him, "A-are you really--for real?"

Batman laughed, "Sometimes I wonder myself. Here--" He held out a gloved right hand to Howie who slowly grasped it with his trembling own. "Does it feel real?"

A gradual smile built on Howie's face. He nodded, "Th-thanks."

The distant howl of sirens came louder and Batman felt it was all right to leave. The police would handle the rest. He doubted Howie would resist if they suggested he take a ride to the hospital to be checked over. And as wobbly as his friend appeared, that would be a good thing.

"See you around," Batman said, stepping away. In between one of Howard's slow blinks he was gone.

Howie looked around in wonder for a few seconds and then fainted just as the police walked in through the broken doorway.

* * *

"They are in police custody my Master. Witnesses say that Batman was involved."

"Fools! Is there no one who can follow simple commands!" Ra's flung out his arms in anger making everyone (excluding the four emotionless bodyguards) in the area flinch in fear for their lives.

He calmed immediately, chiding himself for the loss of control. So the boy had survived. He felt the echo of Talia's delight at his upset. Her 'beloved' was still able to thwart him through his inept protégé. She was correct in that observation. It was time he stopped dallying with this so-called Batman and ended his interfering ways permanently.

"What is the news on Mr. Wardo?"

"We have been unable to locate him Master."

"Find him. Bring him to me within the hour or you will be punished in his place."

"Yes Master."

"Where is the child?"

"In her quarters Master."

"Have her escorted here at once."

"Yes Master."

Ra's strolled to his observation dais and settled gracefully onto the throne-like chair. He studiously reminded himself of Tamara's unusual capabilities. Once she found out her parents were no longer in his grasp she may very well turn on him. He would keep that news from her as long as possible, but he also knew there were too many variables for him to have complete control of this situation. The girl was resilient and very good at not revealing more of herself than he would demand of her. In time he would understand her completely. For now he would handle her with careful deliberation.

A flurry of movement at the technical stations below caught his attention. He heard the rise of heated voices and then a sudden shout and a single technician diving towards the control station that operated the containment equipment. A strident alarm suddenly blared to all corners of the building.

Ra's watched in fascination as the creature rose above its cage. It was a thing of beauty to him and for long seconds he couldn't pull his gaze away. Faster than he thought it capable, the creature vanished through the thick ceiling. Ra's could picture it hovering over the compound, waiting for its senses to tell it where it would find food.

"Master, what should we do!"

"We must raise the hovercraft and follow immediately. If we cannot contain it quickly all will be lost. When we return I will know who is responsible for this--mistake."

The tech, realizing that more than one of his fellow workers would soon die a painful death, bowed his head as the Master stepped down from the dais and headed to the ship.

The specialized hovercraft was aboveground in less than five minutes, but there was no visible sign of the creature. Tracking equipment, designed specifically to detect the creature's energy signs, indicated it was heading into the heart of Gotham City.

At Ra's command the technicians scanned for heavy concentrations of living energy that the creature might be closing in on. The target quickly became clear. Massive energy signs near the Upper West Side Someone informed their Master that the Convention Center was hosting an ecology conference there. It had started this morning. Ra's nodded that he had heard, but said nothing. They were already pressing the craft to its limits. Verbal prodding from him would be useless.

Tamara, who had been hustled aboard seconds before the craft lifted, was standing silently beside Ra's. She could barely contain her elation at the knowledge her parents were now safe from the Master's threats. She was free to go. There was nothing he could do to hold her by his side anymore, yet she was still afraid and unsure of how to do it. Could she really just--walk away?


	28. Chapter 28

"Terr?"

"What now?"

"You need to get moving."

"I _am _moving."

"Move faster. The opening ceremony for the EarthWatch Convention starts in less than two hours and you _do_ have a speech to give."

"Blast-- I forgot all about that. I'll never make it in time."

"Um, yeah, I was thinking the same thing. And then I thought of the obvious solution. Eric Manti was designated as your alternate if for some reason you couldn't make it. Why not give him a call."

"Yeah, he's probably been praying all night that I'd drop off the face of the Earth just so he'd get the chance."

"I don't understand why you let him get to you Terr. Just--call him."

"Can't you do it Max? I don't feel like dealing with his attitude right now."

"I could try, but I don't think Mr. Manti would take any orders from me. He may not have any respect for you Terr, but he can't dismiss your position in the company hierarchy. You have to be the one to do it."

"Great," he mumbled. "Can you at least set it up? Just give me a minute to get ready."

"Sure."

Terry took those sixty seconds to remove his cowl and set the lighting and vidlink in the batmobile so only his face would be seen by Manti. He had just fingered his mussed hair into a semblance of order when the vidlink came to life. There was Manti, bright-eyed, freshly showered and shaved and studying him as if he was a bug specimen in a jelly jar.

"Ah, McGinnis. This is an unexpected displeasure so early in the morning. But now that I see you I can guess why you're calling. Apparently you couldn't let that last bottle go to waste last night. Or was it this morning?"

"A cheery good morning to you too Manti." Terry said evenly. "Not that it's any of your business, but I've been dealing with some personal matters all night and none of them involved alcohol."

"Oh? So now you're starting to experiment with the numerous non-alcohol mind-altering choices?"

Terry stared at the smug blonde executive for a few seconds, realizing that he felt none of his usual animosity for the man. He flashed him a huge smile, "No I haven't, but since you brought it up maybe you could recommend something."

One side of Eric's mouth twitched downward, "So what is it McGinnis? You need me to cover the convention opening because you can't make it?"

"Is that going to be a problem for you? I mean--just because you were picked to take my place in case something like this would happen doesn't mean that you're ready to handle it."

Eric's expression hardened. He did not appreciate McGinnis' verbal barbs, especially since he was saying them with good humor instead of in his usual irritated manner. "I'm more than ready. You know the company can always count on me."

Terry gazed at Manti's image and again it hit him that not only did he not detest the man anymore, he actually felt a strange empathy and new respect for him. This man's career at WayneTech was as important to him as his own life choice to become Batman. Manti had never been a threat to him. He was just doing his job the best way he knew how. The man was simply protecting the interests of WayneTech and his own future. It was time to make Eric Manti the valuable ally he could become to Terry McGinnis instead of an enemy. Terry let admiration show in his expression and voice.

"Yes, I know. Mr. Wayne has indicated to me more than once that you're a great asset to WayneTech. He said I could learn a lot from you."

"He did?" Eric's tone was a mixture of pride and skepticism.

Terry nodded, "And he was right. Good luck with the opening. I'll get there as soon as I can."

At the confused Manti's answering nod, he ended the link. He wasn't surprised when Max connected a split second later, her face displaying a smile.

"Very nice. I didn't think you were capable of that kind of finesse, especially with him."

"I meant it. I've misjudged him."

"Whoa," Max blinked melodramatic surprise. "That doesn't sound like you. You sure you're all right. Maybe that blow you took rattled your brain more than we realized."

"Speaking of changed behavior--do you realize you nagged me twice tonight?" He grinned at her expression of indignation. She was so predictable sometimes.

"I did n--"

Her face disappeared from the screen as she leaned away to address whatever had just caught her attention. He waited a few impatient seconds before demanding, "Max?"

"Umm--looks like you're night isn't done yet."

Terry groaned and muttered, "When do people _sleep_ in this city?"

"It's a break-in at the TriGot Regional Bank."

"That place is built like a fortress and their security leaves _nothing _lacking. Who would--?"

"_This _particular criminal isn't fazed by security or the strength of a building."

"No mood for riddles Max," he said as he directed the batmobile towards the beleaguered institution on Gotham's upper east side. "Who is it?"

"Shriek."

* * *

The huge fish tank, located near the stage, teemed with brightly colored goldfish. It was the first thing to catch Travis' eye when he entered the Center. The next sight that astounded him was the hordes of people waiting around for the opening ceremony to begin. He supposed after that they would be allowed to tour the huge facility. According to the informational pamphlet handed to him at the door there were over a hundred displays organized throughout the building, each showing ways of helping and preserving the Earth. 

Jostled by the crowd, Travis felt a momentary unease and wished Max was here with him so he wouldn't have to be missing her company and could have someone to talk to. It had been her idea that he should come with her, but when she called yesterday and said she couldn't go after all, he decided to go alone. This was an event of a lifetime for him and he wasn't willing to let it pass. Besides, it'd give him more to talk about when he got back home.

Home. He knew if he didn't go back soon, he'd have to start looking for a new job. He had thought about getting one here in Gotham, to stay close to Max, but the way she was acting towards him the last few days told him he shouldn't bother. Maybe she had finally tired of their relationship or maybe being with McGinnis again had helped her out of their so-called 'friendship' phase into something more? It hurt, but if that's what she wanted then he'd accept it and do is darnedest to be happy for her.

He figured the event was about to begin when the crowd became quieter. They all faced the front and watched a fancily dressed man approach the stage and go up its steps.

Eric Manti flicked his pony-tail with his left hand just before he climbed the stage. It was a nervous gesture he'd begun in his sophomore year of college which, years later, he now considered a good luck ritual. As he approached the podium his gaze focused on the corded off area where the Permochine Generatorwaited to be unveiled to the public.

He had read the non-scientific literature on this experimental energy source's background, what its creators claimed it could do and how it would benefit mankind and felt instant distrust of the thing. It sounded too good to be true and his instincts and hard won business experience usually agreed with that wisdom. He didn't like wasting time on unreliable hearsay. It was too costly for the business, not only in the monetary investment of labor, but in potential liability if the thing, figuratively and/or literally, blew up in their faces. But Mr. Wayne was a firm believer in giving new technology a fair chance and continually stressed why the risk was worth taking. Obviously his decades of success indicated he knew what he was talking about.

So Eric set aside his personal opinions and proceeded with the job he was sent here to do, ceremoniously start the EarthWatch Convention and introduce one of its major highlights.

* * *

"Batman?" The costumed villain looked up in surprise, "I thought you were dead." 

"I am. What you're experiencing is my ghostly form coming to haunt you into submission. Any chance it's gonna work? "

"Why aren't you dead?"

"You're not listening to me are you?"

Shriek's voice rose to a strident pitch, "Everyone said you were dead."

"Okay, so maybe I'm not."

"You're going to ruin all my plans."

"Well, if this is the plan you're referring to, then yes I will--because you really shouldn't be doing this. It's wrong."

Shriek seemed oblivious to anything but his own disbelief. "You're supposed to be dead!" He screamed and raised his weapon-clad arms. A deadly burst of sound waves fired at Batman who easily jumped clear of the expected attack. Unfortunately the building behind him did not have that ability. The resultant impact tumbled the front of the structure in a rumble of noise and flying debris.

Two curious pedestrians gawking nearby were about to be pummeled by the aftermath when a black streak flew at them, scooped one of them under each arm and carried them away from the danger.

Batman deposited his rescues among the crowd watching behind the police lines and without pause flew back to Shriek.

By now Shriek had cleared himself a path all the way to the bank vault and was calculating how much frequency he would need to get through the door. If he used too much he'd blow the whole vault apart and then it would take forever to gather the money that would be scattered everywhere.

Agitation was clouding his thought processes, but he had to think quickly. Batman showing up had shaken his confidence and spoiled all his careful planning. Now all he hoped to achieve was to grab as much money as he could after he opened the vault and retreat with it as rapidly as possible.

Shriek made an adjustment on his suit and pointed one arm at the vault. Before he could fire, a black cord was suddenly winding around the arm and jerking it skyward. Thrown off balance, Shriek fell forward. Pain and horror filled him as he felt the arm attachment being torn from around his limb. Looking up he saw Batman standing on the top of the vault, reeling in the cord with his attachment in tow.

"No!" Shriek screamed and pounded at the floor with one bared hand. "You were supposed to be dead! Dead! Dead! Dead!"

Batman watched in mild surprise as the villain continued his tantrum, ready to spring into action if Shriek would decide to attack the police who were cautiously approaching. Shriek seemed unaware he was now surrounded by uniformed men, each with a weapon aimed point-blank at his body. All the while as the police bound his arms and pulled him to a stand he was sobbing and whimpering the word 'dead' over and over.

Batman disappeared from public view as Max's wry comment came through the link, "Well, there's one person who isn't glad you're back."

"I don't get it. He still had plenty of weaponry up his other arm. Why did he give up so easy?"

"You know--not that I'm an expert or anything, but--it looked like he might be having a nervous breakdown. Maybe he's been going through tough times and running into you was the 'last straw' kind of thing."

"Maybe," he replied and yawned. His body suddenly felt the full aftereffects of a very long and active night--something that wouldn't have bothered him in the past. It would be awhile before his stamina reached its former level. "I'm slagged. Maybe I can grab a couple hours of sleep before I head to the Convention."

"Ummmm--"

"Maaax?" He knew that sound she made and it always meant something bad.

"You're needed at the Convention Center. Right now. Mr. Blob has been spotted."

"Why am I surprised?" Terry murmured as he looped the batmobile around. He stifled another yawn and grinned instead to push back a feeling of dread, "How do you know it's not a Mrs. Blob?"

"With the way that greedy thing is set on instant self-gratification? C'mon Terr, tell me that isn't typical male behavior."

"I had to ask," he muttered to himself.

"What was that?"

"I said--I'm glad I asked."

"I thought so."

* * *

Pleased with how quiet and attentive the crowd had been through his speech, Eric's smile was wide as he reached the conclusion of it. He swept one arm up , "And now, it is my privilege to unveil to you this profound new energy source with its potential destined to power the world safely and cheaply for everyone-- the Permochine Generator." 

All eyes were on attendants pulling back the cover from the machine. People begin to clap and cameras flashed. The forward portion of the crowd took a few steps closer to get a better look.

Near the back of the crowd, Travis shook himself as sudden sleepiness seemed to drag at him. He forced his eyes wide and looked around. The people standing around him also fidgeted, like they were dealing with the same problem he had. Something niggled at Travis' thoughts. This was familiar somehow. Was it simple déjà vu or¼ It was like when he was with Max and McGinnis that time¼ The phenom! It was here?

A flash of purple drew his gaze as four uniformed men entered through the main entrance. Two stayed by those doors while the other two went to the other exits and took up a guard like-stance. Something was familiar about them too.

What?

That color of uniform. He had seen it somewhere before.

Travis' eyes narrowed to focus on their faces. He had never seen faces so expressionless. They hardly blinked and didn't seem like they were looking at anything. Even those zombies in horror vids had more--

Zombies! That's it! That's where he had seen two of them. In that bar with McGinnis where he was babbling about zombies, weasels and beavers.

A different presence came in through the entrance doors, her regal bearing drawing his stare in fascination. There was something about her--not her looks though. Something commanding. Reminded him of John Silk, a weird old neighbor from when he was growing up. The guy never said much, but when he looked at you, you felt about two inches tall and were shrinking fast.

Trailing behind the woman was a young girl, head bowed and her face mostly hidden by silky strands of long black hair. As he watched the two females disappear in the crowd, Travis had the strong feeling that he was about to experience more of Gotham's version of excitement.

* * *

Batman set the batmobile to hover at a distance from the dome-roofed Convention Center. He had a panoramic view of the Blob floating above it with Ra's hovercraft drifting close by. At ground level everything appeared normal. Knowing it wouldn't be that way for long he ejected from the vehicle and sent it to hide in the vicinity, ready to come when he signaled it. 

As Batman glided downwards he caught a flash of familiar purple entering the building. So at least one of Rasy's goons had gone inside. Most likely all four and maybe Rasy himself? One way to find out.

Batman could hear the low rumble of an agitated crowd as he slipped inside from a mid-level vent. Looking down he saw goons blocking every exit and irate, panicking people trying to get by them. With no signs of effort the uniformed guards shoved, punched or tossed bodies aside. The rest of the crowd hung back after seeing there was no way out, huddled together from weakness and fear. He couldn't see _It _among the mulling crowd, but his gut was telling him the villain was here.

Batman wondered why Rasy would want to keep them all inside. He felt a fresh wave of disgust when he realized the answer. Like sheep trapped in a pen, they were easy pickings for the Blob. Maybe Rasy thought he could control the thing better this way. Well, Batman was going to change the odds--open the gates and let those sheep out to make a run for their lives.

Wings extended, Batman glided silently downwards. Near the closest blocked exit he ignited the boot-jets and slammed hard into the goon positioned there. It was Weasel and the man went down with disappointing ease. As Batman dragged him aside the people poured through the exit, jostling each other to get through first.

Batman flew to the next exit. These people didn't have protection from the Blob like he had with the suit. They needed to get away from here while they could still walk. His gaze narrowed on the next goon--looked like it was Beaver--his aim to knock the man aside as easily as Weasel. He was pleasantly surprised to realize that wouldn't be the case this time. There was a spark of awareness in the zombie-man who was now primed to defend his position.

Someone moving out from behind a display caught his attention. He now knew where _It _was. Before he had a chance to react he was slammed from behind. He rolled with the blow, was on his feet in seconds and aware he was surrounded by three very alert and combat ready goons. He snapped a glance to where he had left Weasel laying and saw that one too was up and stopping people from leaving again. So Rasy had let the restraints go on his menagerie.

In a defensive stance Batman regarded the circle that was closing in on him, "I hope he's gonna let you guys talk now too? That would make this a lot more entertaining."

Otter was the first to growl as he raised his arms and charged. Weasel and Beaver quickly joined in and Batman was scrambling on the defensive. Their moves weren't blind or clumsy. They actually seemed to be working as a team. It hit home rapidly to Batman that this wasn't going to be as easy as he thought.

The trapped crowd screamed and shrank away from the fight unfolding before them. Displays crumbled and debris became deadly missiles as Batman and his adversaries fought with vicious realism. Travis felt more anger than fear or frustration at the predicament he was in. All these bodies available to help and they couldn't manage to get by one person who was blocking the single accessible exit. No way was he going to stand by and let this continue.

Looking around, he searched for likely candidates to help carry out his simple plan of overpowering the guard--younger, strong-looking males who didn't seem too affected by the phenom yet. He got one to follow him, then another and another as he pushed his way through the masses. His intent gained momentum and soon men and a few women, more than he could count easily, thronged around the tall, burly guard.

Travis was among the first group who rushed their target. A powerful arm connected with his midsection. He felt himself flying backwards and other, smaller arms and bodies breaking his fall. Breathing hard, he scrambled to his feet and rejoined the mob who hadn't let up the attack despite many of them experiencing similar painful backlash from the relentless guard.

Soon not even the man's purple uniform could be seen beneath the enraged bodies that had piled on top of him. He stopped moving, finally unconscious from the onslaught.

Someone helped Travis up from the tangle of arms and legs. He stood on shaky legs and watched with a feeling of triumph as people streamed out the wide-open exit doors. A few men clapped him on the back and shared a nod and grin of camaraderie. Another gestured to the other end of the Center where Batman was still engaged in his own battle and muttered,

"Looks like he's got his hands full. Let's hope he can hold them back 'till everyone's out of here."

"Yeah," Travis answered distractedly and without conscious thought found himself moving closer to the fight.

Despite the danger, Travis couldn't help watching Batman in action. It was weird seeing something you thought was total fiction come to life right before your eyes. Sure he'd heard tales of Batman. Who hadn't? Just like the stories of Bigfoot, sea-monsters, werewolves and zombies. But experiencing it with his own senses definitely made it more convincing.

Wow!

Travis had a deja vu moment as he watched Batman fight. He was seeing glaring familiarities between Batman's moves and what he had witnessed Terry doing when he was fighting the Jokerz that night near the park. Maybe they both attended the same fight school. Granted, Batman was a lot stronger than Terry could ever have been. Maybe that costume was robotic or something. If that was true then-- He silently scoffed at himself for his sudden off-the-wall thought.

McGinnis as Batman?

A moody, alcoholic business executive secretly playing a masked crime fighter who was trying to protect a whole city?

Naaah, too much of a stretch .

But--there must be some connection. McGinnis knew at least two of those--zombies--from that bar scene. Maybe he was working for or--with Batman? And then there was that drunken revelation he'd made after the Jokerz fight about having _been_ Batman. That was a laugh! Or maybe it wasn't supposed to be.

No. Forget it. That would just be--stupid.

Travis shook his head to fight the tiredness dragging at him. He had to get out of here. The Phenom was obviously making him hallucinate. He joined the last of the crowd as they hurried through the exit door. One man seemed dazed as he trailed the rest. He kept stopping to mumble and glance around at the jumbled havoc that had minutes ago been a neatly organized event.

Wondering if the man may have been hurt during the melee, Travis went over to help him. Up close he recognized it was the same person who had given the speech. That long blond hair, which Travis was sure some women he knew back home would be envious of, was an obvious giveaway for identifying him.

"Sir? Are you all right? Would you like a little help?"

"Yes I--" Eric cocked his head like a bird at Travis then was looking around again. "I don't understand what happened. Everything was going so smoothly. I can't--"

Poor guy's in shock, Travis decided and took action.

"We really should get out of here." Travis grabbed Eric's arm and propelled him faster to the exit. Eric didn't resist. He continued looking around and mumbling incoherently.

* * *

The Center echoed eerily in its emptiness. The only conscious person in sight was standing near the podium. 

Al Ghul.

Batman stared at -- _It_-- while a wave of emotion crashed through him. First reaction was to jump at the figure and smack it to the ground in rightful vengeance. He let that one go, knowing the fragile feminine form wouldn't survive the physical punishment he could and wanted to deliver. That was Talia's body. She was still alive inside and she was not responsible for her father's actions.

Second reaction was to remain calm, secure _It_ in a reasonable manner, take _It_ to the police and press charges...

Press charges as who? As Batman? Arresting Talia Al Ghul for premeditated murder of over a hundred Gotham citizens? He had no solid proof yet. As Terry McGinnis? Charging _It _for commanding the abduction and assault on him? Terry never reported the beating--for obvious reasons. And for those same reasons he couldn't do it now either.

His gut churned with a sickening frustration. What the hell was he supposed to do? Maybe Talia would thank him for putting her out of her misery. For ending the life that was no longer hers. Al Ghul had to be stopped! Fists clenching, Terry strode forward to meet his sworn enemy.

"No. Don't hurt her."

He lurched to a stop when the faint, familiar voice reached hismind or--ears? She was here?

He whirled around trying to sight a body to go with it and whispered a call when he found none, "Tamara?"

"Batman doesn't kill."

"What then!" he hiss-whispered as his glance darted around trying to spot her ghostly or realform. He was more than ready to end this.

He kept himself from showing surprise when Ra's deep voice sounded close. It had been stupid to let himself get distracted. He quickly refocused on the, much nearer now, female form. It irritated him that he was still unnerved seeing the female body and hearing the male voice come out of it.

"It seems I have underestimated you again. Perhaps the Detective has not completely lost all of his reasoning abilities and you do possess some capacity for the job he has allowed you."

Terry remained silent while he gained control over emotion he had struggled with in dreams. The nightmare was now standing before him, but this time he could change the outcome.

"What's wrong boy? Is being in my presence unsettling to you?"

"Hardly," he sneered. "I was just realizing why you took on a woman's body. Kinda like hiding behind mommy's skirts, although in this case it's your daughter's. Talk about unmanly. You win the prize."

"The prize I hope to win will benefit all mankind."

"You mean the few who manage to survive after you're all done." Terry chided, trying hard to keep his tone level and not filled with the hatred that burned inside. "All you're trying to benefit is yourself."

"Simple minded child," Ra's scoffed before walking to the other end of the room. His tone resounded with bored patience. "This earth needs to be protected from those who are destroying it. Since I am the only one alive capable of the wisdom and vision to see that fact, then it is up to me to change it."

"Your wisdom and vision are warped Rasy. Big time. All those years of living has skewed any kind of sane perspective you had--that is--if you ever had any in the first place."

Ra's chuckled softly, "Has the Detective not talked of my history to you at all? Though he always abhorred my methods, he found it difficult to completely dismiss my vision."

"He lies!"

The vehemence behind Tamara's words made Terry's head jerk in surprise. A glance at Ra's bland expression indicated the other had heard nothing. Terry found it hard to believe that only he could have heard that loud outburst.

Ra's expression turned curious then amused, "She's been communicating with you, hasn't she? How interesting. I wondered what other abilities she has been hiding from me?"

Batman grinned, "Guess you'll never know now that you don't have a hold on her anymore."

"Don't I? She may not realize it yet, but her unusual depth of compassion extends far beyond her parents. There are many other lives she holds dear that--".

Talia's form was suddenly flying through the air and hitting a wall where it slid stunned to the ground.

Terry blinked in confusion. What--?

"_I_ will hurt him. _Only _him."

If thoughts could kill-- Feeling the cold emotion behind her words sent an eerie chill through him.

"Tamara--where are you?"

Her flesh and blood form seemed to step out from nowhere a short distance from him. "Leave now. I don't want you to watch."

He stared at her grim face, "What are you going to do?"

She would not meet his eyes, "Go away Batman. You've done all you can here."

"No."

Terry's eyes widened beneath the cowl as he felt himself being pushed. Since he was in a windless room with no one else near him, he assumed it was Tamara using her power in a way he never experienced before. Well--he had experienced it before, but not from Tamara. There was that guy from his first run-in with the Brain Trust who looked like a cross between the Pillsbury Doughboy and Frankenstein's assistant. A fight with mind over matter like he'd never imagined. Luckily he won that one.

"Go away!"

He set his feet and resisted moving any further, "Tell me what you're going to do."

She glared at him, "He will pay! He will pay for all he has done to me! For hurting my parents! For all those people he killed! He feels nothing! He is empty! Dark! Evil!"

Batman was suddenly swept off his feet and flung toward the exit.

"Save the others! The creature is getting stronger!"

Weary, his body aching from a long night of not so gentle activity, Batman slowly picked himself up while his mind furiously ran through his options.

He didn't want to fight her. Her attitude, determined beyond any past experience he'd had with her, told him that trying to reason with her at this point would be a waste of time. And time was something they couldn't waste. The Blob was sucking the life from every living thing in the area. Who knows how many people were already beyond help. Tamara was right. He had to stop the thing now. It was a simple question of what was more important--saving the villain or saving hundreds of innocent lives?

Tamara spared a glance to watch Batman rocket away. Relieved he was gone she returned full attention to the one who was now totally at her mercy. She liked this feeling of superiority--of the slave now controlling the master.


	29. Chapter 29

Batman stood on the roof of the Convention Center and gazed up at the scintillating Blob hovering in the morning sky. He looked below at the crowds trying to get past the police barricade that had been set up to direct the frantic flow away from the building to keep the exodus from becoming a disaster in itself. Police hovercraft surrounded the Blob at a safe distance away, unsure what to do. Max's husky voice came over the link,

"How bad is it?"

"Bad. A lot of people are down already and the cops are having a hard time controlling the rest. We've got to get the Blob away from here now."

"Can you see his ship? What about using its containment netting?"

"It's already too big for that."

"Maybe we should make a call to the superhero ranks for some help."

"No time. We've got to find our own solution Max. Fast."

Terry was startled to hear a gruff voice come over the link and felt immediate relief from the implication of that fact.

"Stop reacting and start thinking McGinnis. You've got more personal experience than any of us with the creature. Tell us what you know."

"Which isn't much. The thing is sucking the life out of everything and getting bigger because of it. It's too big for any kind of containment I know of. The only other way it's been stopped is by letting it gorge until it bursts. If we let it do that, every living thing in the area will be dead--either before that happens or after, from the explosion that follows." Terry paused, "Too bad we don't have a candy source around here--like what it had from the cave. Maybe that would distract it from pulling at the human energy until everyone was in the clear."

"Ther--." Bruce began before Terry interrupted.

"The Permochine Generator!I saw it near the podium. But--" His voice dulled with disappointment. "That's just a mock-up isn't it?"

"It is." Terry heard the touch of affirmation in his mentor's tone. Having worked with the man long enough, he knew he had gotten a few 'brownie points' for coming up with an answer without waiting for the prompt Bruce had started to give. "The workable device is being stored at the WayneTech research facility in the lower level lab. I'll call and tell them you're coming and to have it waiting outside."

"Okay. I'm on it." Batman sprang up to meet the oncoming Batmobile. "And I suppose you can tell me how it works too."

"From the second hand information I've read--maybe. Max is pulling up data on the device now. By the time you've gotten it grappled it to the Batmobile we should know more."

"I hope so or not only will this be a wasted trip, but Gotham's funeral homes will suddenly have more business than they can handle."

With hundreds of lives on the line, Batman raced against time. On the trip back to the Center Bruce explained to him how to activate it. Setting the Batmobile to hover near the Blob he climbed out and over to the machine.

After the third attempt to activate it the Generator hummed to life. Terry grit his teeth against the high-pitched whine now screaming through the Batmobile's hull, thankful that the vehicle's maneuvering didn't seem to be compromised by whatever caused it. Maybe operating the Permochine Generator outside of its designed shielding wasn't going to cause as much trouble as the WayneTech scientists had warned him about. Hopefully all this noise meant it was working too. Tension held him rigid as he waited and watched.

The sparkling mass of floating energized Blob gradually began rippling and drifting closer to the Generator.

Batman smiled, saying excitedly, "Looks like it's taking the bait. Now what?"

"Back away. See if it'll follow you."

After a few minutes of careful luring, Batman's voice held a mixture of triumph and tension, "It's working. Best ideas on where we should be going?"

"Head out over the river. North. Towards Mooney Bridge. That's the closest, biggest span of open water around."

"Man! It's already getting bigger."

"Is the Batmobile giving you any trouble?"

"Not like last time. It's hard to control, but only because of turbulence. I'm not sure if that's coming from the Blob or the Generator."

"Go faster if you can."

"My pleasure." As Batman accelerated over the city, his thoughts turned to Tamara and how she was faring down below.

* * *

The agonized male roar gradually changed to a female's high-pitched scream of pain. Talia's shaking body became frozen in place for a moment before collapsingHer falling form hit the heavy aquarium display, which had already been tilted dangerously from panicked people bumping into it. It moved in slow motion at first, quickly picking up speed before toppling completely and cracking the clear sides wide open. Water and fluttering fish flowed in a gushing stream across the floor towards the inset drains that would eventually empty into the Gotham River.

Tamara stood motionless for few minutes as she came out of the depths of a trance-like state she had never experienced before. Her eyes widened at seeing Talia's still body. Had she killed them both?

Trembling from exhaustion and dread, she reached out tentatively with her senses to feel Talia. Her body sagged in relief at realization the other woman was alive and that she could not feel Ra's at all. So… had she destroyed him? She tensed at the thought, her smug satisfaction at finally beating him giving way to the shocking revelation of the evil SHE had just committed.

It was too much to think about right now and she felt so weak.

All senses shutting down, Tamara fainted onto the wet floor.

* * *

The Gotham River was below him now, the fast speed he was going making it pass by in a shiny blurEven with the protective shielding in the batmobile and suit he was beginning to sweat from the heat created by the Generator. He didn't know how the thing worked, but he didn't need to be a rocket scientist either to realize something was wrong with it. And for all he knew the Blob could be throwing off heat of its own. It was so bright now that it blocked out most of his vision. He had been steering by instrument and Bruce's relayed computer tracking from the cave for the last ten minutes.

"The Generator's starting to cook. I don't think it's going to hold out much longer."

"You're almost to the drop point," Max said. "Less than five minutes. And Barbara's just reported in that it's all cleared."

"Can't wait," Terry muttered, blinking the sweat from his eyes and ignoring the sting while he focused on the batmobile's engine temperature gauge. It had entered the red zone less than a minute ago and was still climbing. He hung on grimly to the steering yokes as the vehicle bucked violently for a few seconds before settling down to its previous steady shaking. "Forget the Generator. This damn car is probably gonna go first."

"Then drop it now," Bruce demanded.

"How much farther to the safe zone."

"About seventy-eight seconds." Max still sounded calm.

"We'll make it."

"Terry--" Bruce again.

"Give me a countdown," he growled and grit his teeth as the savage movements of the Batmobile pulled him against the restraints with bruising force. He half focused on Max's steady voice speaking out the numbers while his other half processed everything else with hyper awareness.

He wouldn't make it. He was losing control of the Batmobile and when he lost it completely he'd be toasted and still wouldn't be right over the drop point so what would he have gained from waiting? He heard Max say "thirty-nine" and made his decision.

"Releasing the Permochine Generator--now!"

For one horrific second he waited while the grapples refused to give up their burden. He toggled the switch again. Could the heat have fused the mechanism or was---

Batman gasped in relief as the glowing generator fell away from the Batmobile into the intense brightness of the Blob that was all around him. There was no time to rejoice. The Batmobile was no longer responding to his piloting and was now spiraling out of control.

He could see the choppy surface of the river coming into view as he continued to fight for control. In his favor was a constant drop in temperature as the car angled away from the Blob which was following the Generator's plunge to the river.

Seconds before the Batmobile was about to hit the water's surface at a breakneck speed, Batman regained control and pulled it upwards into a smooth arc.

Batman leveled out and headed it towards home before slumping back in the seat. He had a minute's respite before everything went crazy again.

Either the Blob had finally ingested beyond its capacity and or the Generator had self-destructed. Whatever happened sent turbulent repercussions for miles around and the Batmobile was caught in it.

Once again Batman wrestled with the unwieldy machine to save himself and…..succeeded.

Sweat cooling on his body and the fade of adrenaline made Terry shiver. He forced himself to answer the insistent gruff voice that was calling to him and hoped his own voice wouldn't sound as weak as he felt at the moment.

"I'm okay." He gazed out the windows and checked external readouts and found no trace of the energies he had been dealing with. "Am I right thinking-mission accomplished?"

"We're getting the Batmobile's readouts. Everything looks clear." Max's voice softened. "You sure you're all right?"

"I'm sure. What's the situation at the Center?"

"Twelve casualties and one death. Police have Ra's bodyguards in custody. Tamara and Talia were both found unconscious. They've been taken to Gotham General."

"Then that's where I'm going next. I need to know how she is."

"Understood."

* * *

Changed into normal clothing and having sprayed on an odor masker, Terry made his way through the hospital corridors doing his own search for Tamara in the most likely places. He found her and slipped into her room when the medical staff was busy elsewhere.

Sitting in quiet contemplation on the bed she didn't notice him until he spoke her name.

She looked at him strangely for a moment then smiled, "Oh, it's you," and grabbed his hand. "Thank you--again. I owe you so much."

Terry returned the smile and shook his head, "We help each other. So--how are you?"

With her fingers she combed back strands of hair from her face, still smiling, "Much better than I've been for a long time."

"Good." Terry nodded and grinned for a moment before it faded. "Tamara--" he locked eyes with her, expression serious, tone hushed. "I need to know. What did you do to him?"

Tamara lifted her chin, words defiant, "He is gone from Talia."

Terry's brows angled downward, "Dead?"

"I--" her expression became confused. "-- don't know."

She visibly retreated into herself, head bowing, hands pulling at the bed sheets before suddenly looking up at him and stating boldly, "But I hope with all my heart he is. And if there's something worse than death I pray it finds him."

He felt it again. The burning hatred she felt for Ra's--much stronger than his own. Not a good thing for someone so young.

Flicker of movement through the observation window caught his attention. It was the Commish, personally escorting Tamara's parents. They were at the nurse's station listening intently to what medical personnel were explaining to them.

He should leave before he'd have to explain his presence. Tamara must have sensed his sudden tension. She spoke out with strong reassurance.

"I've never told them about--us."

Terry grinned sadly, "I'm guessing that's not the only secret you're keeping from them."

"I don't want to hide things from them, but….I don't think they'd understand."

He nodded, "Will you be all right?"

She gazed at her preoccupied parents through the window, her voice was wistful, "As long as they never stop loving me, I have a reason to survive."

Man! And he thought his life had been tough. He touched her arm, "If you ever need me…"

"I know," Tamara's smile lit up her face like he'd never seen before. That's who you are. Someone I can trust."

His peripheral sight glimpsed movement and he saw her anxious parents hurrying to the room. Terry began moving for the exit.

"I'd better go."

Tamara lifted a hand in farewell, though her bright eyes were intent on her parents. Terry stepped aside as Mr. And Mrs. Caulder barreled into the room straight for their daughter's arms, not even seeing him standing there. He stepped outside, pausing outside the window to observe the reunion. Barbara joined him there.

They witnessed the family hugging, uttering tender words and crying without reservation.

Barb, a slight grin on her face, turned to Terry, "You did good kid."

Terry smiled, "Can I record you on that and replay it next time you make those cryptic comments about not wanting vigilantes in your city?"

Barb gave him a knowing look, her eyes dancing merrily, before walking away.

Terry took a final glance at Tamara. A sinking feeling tore at the edges of this page of the happy ending. Tamara had, once again, been unwillingly pushed from her innocence. No matter how uneventful the rest of her life may be--and he doubted her future would reveal a peaceful, simple existence--these recent events would leave her scarred for life. She couldn't deny the dangerous impact of her powers and neither could he or anyone else who found out about them.

He admonished thoughts that spoke of trouble ahead, 'Let it go for now McGinnis. You'll deal with it when the time is right.' With the final vision of Tamara's smiling face impressed positively in his memory, Terry left the scene.

* * *

In another part of the same hospital Bruce and Max were also observing a patient. This one was unconscious, her slim body barely lifting the bedding that covered her.

An old family friend is what Bruce had told the medical staff. He'd heard by chance that she had been taken here and he was concerned. Could they tell him what was wrong with her? Would it be all right if he saw her?

Because Bruce was still weak and needed Max to chauffeur him, she had witnessed it all and was duly impressed by how smoothly the old man could handle people. She supposed it helped that he was famous in Gotham and a major financial supporter of this place.

Bruce was speaking as he walked closer to the bed, "I would speculate that Tamara exorcising Ra's from her mind triggered major psychic trauma. It's amazing she survived to reach even this point."

Max stayed where she was standing, sensing that Bruce wanted to be alone. Curiosity kept her a moment longer in the room as she asked, "Do you think she'll ever come out of the coma?"

Bruce, thinking of his past with her, replied, "I don't know." He paused before adding. "But if there is any part of her left inside, I think she will. She was always a very strong-willed woman."

"Yeah," Max let out a snort of amusement. "If even half of the stuff I read about her is true she must have a will of titanium."

Bruce made no reply and when she saw his hand reach out gradually to grasp Talia's much smaller hand she knew it was time to leave. She backed out of the room.

"I'll be in the waiting room whenever you're ready to go."

* * *

Lane and his little sister Ceil liked trekking down the rough path through the small scrub of trees that led to an edge of the Gotham River. It was especially fun doing it at dusk when shadows cast eerie shapes and they could imagine themselves in a fantasy land where they might meet horrid monsters and have to fight for their lives.

The children tired of battling bushes and trees with sticks. They shrieked, pretending they were being chased by the monsters they had failed to conquer and ran to the water's edge. Once there, they grew still and gazed upon the unusually serene quiet of the river. The water's surface glowed red from light of the setting sun. Small waves lapped rhythmically against the garbage strewn shoreline. Soon the sound of frantic splashing reached their ears. Sharp young eyes searched to find the source. Lane picked up a few pebbles at his feet.

"Must be a fish jumping," he stated with authority and flung the stones in that direction. Ceil found some of her own to throw and soon they were bragging about who could throw the fastest or farthest. Angry that her brother was always doing better, Ceil ran back toward the path.

"I'm gonna get home before you Lane!"

Lane flung the last of his stones and chased after her.

The growing dark hadn't revealed the orange-yellow color of the fish they had heard or shown that it was a small carp--a goldfish to be exact. And they certainly would never have seen from the distance how the goldfish's fins waved or its lips moved or have heard its tiny voice calling out to them,

"Stop. Stop! I command you to stop and attend me. Now!"

* * *

The cave resounded gently with the sound of a young man's intense voice.

Terry was facing Bruce. "I realize now that was a stupid, unrealistic goal. I could never be who you are or-- were. But I have made a difference here in Gotham. Destiny has given _me_ this chance. Who am I to deny her?"

Bruce's reply was to tip his head to one side as if he was considering the question before giving a slight nod.

Terry turned to Max who was standing behind him. "I've tried and I can't do it. Cause if I did that I'd deny myself. This is what I want. I know that now. I've always known it, though I didn't totally understand why. Gotham needs a Batman. It needs..." he showed her a winsome smile. "Me."

Unwilling to resist his sudden charm, Max returned the smile. It had been ages since she had seen him use it and it brought back pleasant memories of their early days working together. Fun times. Innocent times.

"What about you Max?"

"Huh?"

"Is destiny gonna keep you here with us or are you supposed to be somewhere else---out of our lives?"

Max's slow smile held a mixture of secrecy and mischief. There was seductive sway in her stride when she walked towards him. She had made up her mind. The reason she had kept him at a distance was no longer an issue. She had admitted her love for him. She didn't have to fight it anymore. It was time now to go with their feelings and see what would come of it. She was as ready as she'd ever be.

Standing before him, she placed her hands on his waist and looked into his eyes, which at the moment were widened in surprise. She was still smiling, her voice radiating its usual husky tone,

"So destiny is female?"

"Ah…yeah, I guess. I mean--you know how women have a way of--messing up a guy's plans because they think they know better and--a lot of times they do."

"We do? What an interesting revelation coming from a man. I think men everywhere should hear this. It could change the world."

"Hey," he settled tentative hands on her shoulders. "I'm being serious here."

"You've been serious for way too long. Someone needs to remind you how to have a little fun occasionally."

"Strange, I was just think'n the same thing about you."

"Me?" She batted her lashes, mock drama in her tone. "Serious?"

"Yeah, you," he grinned and slowly let his hands trail up the curve of her neck. His thumbs began a gentle stroke along her jaw line.

Max's eyelids half-closed as his touch triggered languid fire inside her, "Hmm. I didn't realize that. Well, then maybe that's something we could work on together. What do you think?"

"You know me," he drawled in a low voice. "I don't like thinking much. Doing is what I'm better at."

A loud snort from Bruce made them both turn to stare at him, "Well now that you're finally admitting to that fact maybe you're ready to do something about it. Thinking ahead so you're prepared will eliminate a lot of the unnecessary doings that waste so much of your time. I think if we start you on a--"

Terry smirked, "Bruce."

Bruce's eyes narrowed.

"I'm about to do something that you'd probably consider completely thoughtless, wasteful and untimely. You can stay and watch or leave. Either way you can't stop me." Without delay Terry turned his attention back to Max and murmured softly to her, "But you can--if this isn't what you want."

Bruce harrumphed and reached down to pat Ace on the head, "Come on boy. You're too young to be watching this. Let's go before they end up blocking the stairway again."

The young couple grinned to hide a twinge of embarrassment and waited until Bruce was ascending the stairs before resuming their conversation.

"_Is_ this what you want Max?"

"I want to help Gotham as much as you and Bruce do and this is one way to do it."

"That wasn't the kind of answer I was looking for."

"Then maybe your question should be more specific."

Terry dipped his head for a moment then looked into her eyes once more.

"What about Whitfield?"

Max stared into his searching baby-blues and considered continuing to give him a hard time about his oblique questions even though she knew what he wanted to hear.

"He knows--how I feel about you."

"How'd he take it?"

"In stride. He's a very level-headed and patient man, unlike a couple of other men I know." She emphasized the 'other men' part and looked directly into his eyes. "That's what attracted me to him in the first place."

"You really did--like him?"

"Yes," her grin held skepticism. "I thought it was obvious even to you."

"Well, sure I saw you two together and you looked a little tight, but I never really…" he trailed off with a shrug.

Max cast him a discerning look and smirked, "You were jealous."

He drew back. His brow furrowed and mouth opened to what she thought might be a strong protest. In the next moment he relaxed, blew out a breath and replied evenly, "Maybe."

Max's smile gradually faded, "I never led Travis on. He always knew my heart belonged to someone else even when I wouldn't admit it to myself. He's a good man. There's a woman out there who's going to be very lucky some day."

"I suppose he's all right."

"You know he is." Max grinned and squeezed his waist.

"Isn't that what I just said? And hey--I'm a patient man too. Look how long I've been waiting for you."

"Aw--you're still jealous."

"Give me a reason not to be," he challenged with a hint of tease.

"I'm here right now--" she drew closer to him, "--with you."

He got a wickedly delighted look on his face before demanding softly, "Give me another one."

Her expression became complacent. She stretched over and up to reach his lips with her own, the intention of devouring them foremost on her mind. Terry contained his excitement and held himself still, letting her mouth do whatever it wanted to his. He was just about to let it loose when she slowly pulled away.

"Convinced yet?"

"Not sure," he rasped. "I think I might need more than that."

"How much more?"

"As much as you want to give me."

A loud irritated voice sounded from the top of the cave steps, "You're pushing it McGinnis. Get to the point before she decides to walk again."

Frowning, Terry looked up at the distant Bruce and returned his own loud comment, "Aren't you old enough to be deaf by now?"

"Lucky for you I'm not," Bruce retorted before taking the last step out of the cave and the door closing behind him.

Max's quiet laugh got Terry smiling again. "What?"

She answered with a smile and shake of her head, her dark eyes memorizing every line of his face, her heart filled to bursting with this moment and realizing how far they'd come to get here. This was her destiny. To be with both of them--fighting to help Gotham.

To be with him-- her hand lifted, fingers stroked across one dark eyebrow down along the angled plain of his face--to whatever end may eventually come.

Terry took hold of the hand, interlocking his fingers with hers, "What are you thinking?"

"That I love you. And I'm wondering when you're going to start all that doing you keep talking about."

"Doing?" He grinned and tipped his head closer to hers. "You mean something like this?"

The bats hanging high above the body-tight, lip-locked human couple fluttered and squeaked in annoyance. Things had been so much quieter when it had just been the old man who came to the cave. Oh well, even a bat's world had to change with the times.

THE END

_We did it Jean! WOO-HOO!_


End file.
